Connie Brockway

“Some days you're the cockroach, some days you're the boot heel.”

“If it's got a beard or a battery, you're going to have trouble with it.”

“Who of us would have ended up where we are if someone hadn't had the good sense to interfere with us?”

“Come on, Avery." Fresh tears stained her cheeks. Her voice shook. "Wake up,damn it!" She sobbed, rocking forward and back, her arms wrapping tightlyaround his big body. "Don't you want to shout at me for disobeying you, youoverbearing, domineering male?"She squeezed her eyes shut and bit hard on her lip. He couldn't die. He was toostubborn, too alive, too vigorous. And she couldn't lose him. She loved him toomuch."I… am a… gentleman," she heard him gasp. "I never shout at women.”

“Foolish Lily," he said. "Don't you know why I haven't touched you? Didn't you guess that once you were in my arms I would never let you go?”

“Avery?" she whispered.He gathered her closer, his eyes still closed."Avery?""Shh." His voice was low and infinitely sad. "Hush. Tomorrow's waiting outside this door. It's crouching there in an ocean of words and uncertainties. But it's not here yet and we are. Lily. Lillian. Love. I'm begging you. Let me love you again. Let me love you all night long." She answered with a kiss.”

“He stopped. She heard the intake of his breath. “You are my country, Desdemona.” Yearning, harsh and poignant and she felt herself swaying toward him. “My Egypt. My hot, harrowing desert and my cool, verdant Nile, infinitely lovely and unfathomable and sustaining.”She gasped.His gaze fell, shielded by his lashes. An odd, half-mocking smile played about his lips. “You’ll never hear old Blake say something like that.”She swallowed, unable to speak, her senses abraded by his stimulating words, her pulse hammering in anticipation? Trepidation?“Remember my words next time he calls you a bloody English rose.”

“They locked him in the stockade for four days. No other prisoners occupied the other cells that ran the length of the room. He was alone, and that was fine with him. He needed to think, and that was best done in a place where he wouldn’t see Ginesse Braxton—Ginesse, not Mildred—because she did things to his thought processes, such as dammed them up completely.She acted and he reacted: viscerally, irrepressibly, and ruinously.She fell in the water; he dove in after her. She laughed; he smiled. She mentioned the beauty of the sunset; he saw colors in it he hadn’t ever noticed. She peeked at him from under her gold-tipped lashes; he grew hard as Damascus steel. Pomfrey said something derogatory; he wanted to kill the sonofabitch with his bare hands.Things like that.”

“Where will you go? What will you do?" he demanded."That need be no concern of yours--""The hell it isn't!" he shouted. "Everything about you is my concern."She opened her mouth to deny this but the look of him stopped her. For a long tense moment he studied her and when he spoke his voice was low and furious and yearning."I don't give a bloody damn if I never share your bed, your name, or your house -- you are still my concern. You can leave, take yourself from my ken, disappear for the rest of my life but you cannot untangle yourself from my -- my concern. That I have of you, Miss Bede, for that, at least, I do not need your permission."His words shocked her. She looked decades hence and she saw a specter of what might have been haunting her every moment, her every act, for the rest of her life."Your concern is misplaced.""It's mine to misplace," he said steadily.”

“He loved but he did not know how to be loved.”

“I am no good without you, Ginesse,” he said. “I spent a lifetime alone, but I never understood loneliness until I was away from you. I never understood happiness until I saw you again.”

“I love you,” she whispered, gazing up into his pale gray eyes.He smiled crookedly, for a moment looking at her with a dazzled air. He had, she realized sadly, no experience hearing those words. He didn’t know how to react. “I figured as much.”This time, she didn’t hit him.”

“Why did you refuse to marry me then?” he demanded.She should be quiet; she should just stay mute. But she was angry and hurt. Only moments before he’d been saying such lovely things; now he was being horrible. “Why can’t you help yourself?” she countered, shouting back.“What?”“Why are you compelled to come after me?” she demanded, setting her hands on her hips.For a moment, he just stared at her as if she was daft.“Because I love you,” he finally said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.“What?” She’d waited to hear him say those words for what seemed like an eternity, and now he’d said them just as casually and unconcernedly as he might have said, “I like that dress” or “Spot is a good name for a dog.”“Because I love you,” he repeated. “Why else would I?”“I don’t know. Because you’re mad?” she suggested. How dare he say he loved her here, in such a manner, with so little fanfare?He was watching her carefully. “You seem upset.”“Oh. Do I?” she asked sweetly. Behind her, the horse shifted uneasily. Smart horse. “Perhaps it’s because I do not believe you.”

“Has he ever even said he loved you?""He's been telling me for years," she said softly, "I just wasn't listening”

“Passion is tragedy-in-waiting”

“No one ever fell in love gracefully.”

“Conscience is like a pet: If you spoil it by too much attention it'll start yipping at the most inopportune times.”

“Find out what people want to do, then tell them to do it. They'll think you're a genius.”

“Give me a strong back, over a soft heart.”

“And enigmatic smile is worth ten pages of dialog.”

“If you forget your lines, you had better mumble with conviction.”

“There are moments on stage when everything comes together. Then the kid in the front row coughs.”

“I want you cool and regal, earthy and impertinent, spoiling for a fight and abashed at your own temper. I want you flushed with exertion and rosy with sleep. I want you teasing and provocative, somber and thoughtful. I want every emotion, every mood, every year in a lifetime to come. I want you beside me, to encourage and argue with me, to help me and let me help you. I want to be your champion and lover, your mentor and student.”

“She clutched the train ticket tighter and waited for the sense of escape to come over her as it had a dozen times before, that heady sensation of having just scooted through the clanging gate, of eluding the thrown net. It didn't come. She was running again, but she wasn't escaping. She'd been chased to ground a long, long time ago.”

“She'd stood by that creed. No softness, because the world wasn't soft; lots of laughter, because if you were in on the joke, the joke couldn't be on you; And no wanting what you couldn't take, because the world never gave.Or so she'd thought.”

“You can figure out what the villain fears by his choice of weapons.”

“Love shouldn't be comfortable.”

“The lower your decolletage, the less the need for conversation.”

“Nothing seduces vanity like the word "help".”

“Charm is getting people to say "yes" without ever having to ask them a question.”

“The knowledge that she was needed by something living, that she could benefit another creature, produce happiness, or contentment, or just a feeling of security--somehow it filled a part of her as nothing else had.”

“I love you, Ginesse. Don't you see? You are my Zerzura. You are my undiscovered country, both my heart's destination and journey. Gold and temples, jewels and gems don't hold one bit of your enticement. You are my Solomon's mine, my uncharted empire. You are the only home I need to know, the only journey I want to take, the only treasure I would die to claim. You are exotic and familiar, opiate and tonic, hard conscience and sweet temptation. And now I have no more words to give you, Ginesse. I only have my heart, and you already own that.”

“Pain is the only reward for clinging to impossible dreams." (Harry Braxton)”

“An intelligent lady, a little too mature for recklessness, a little too young for caution.”

“I’ve thought of a reason,” Kit MacNeill said”

“The sound of the surf mingled with the wind rushing in his ears, and still it did not drown out the sound of her voice: “Can you think of any reason why I should not stay?”A thousand. None of them good enough.”

“Do you gamble, Captain MacNeill?”“Never, sir.”“No?” the marquis looked surprised. “Thought you soldiers were all inveterate gamblers.”“Only with our lives, sir. Never had anything else I could afford to lose.”

“She felt abused, used, cherished, and pleasured.She despised him. She loved him. She mistrusted him. She had complete faith in him. “Ah!”

“How can you love me?” she asked, forcing herself to say the words that would kill the tenderness in his eyes. “You don’t even know me. You know ‘Lady Agatha,’ a composite, a character, a role I played.”He shook his head, his negation gentle but certain. “I didn’t fall in love with a character, a title, or an occupation. I didn’t fall in love with you because of your past or despite it.“I love you because of your intensity and passion, because you make me want to be better than I am, because seeing my reflection in your eyes makes me better than I am. I love you because you laugh easily and honestly. I love you because you carried an ugly mutt into a drawing room as though it were a prince and because you gave an old soldier a strawberry trifle. I love you, Letty.”

“The toughest role is real life.”

“He wanted her. Her. Nothing could take that away from her. Ever. He wanted her, not the status he thought her purloined name could bring him”

“Resist demonstrating that your worldliness was more fiction than fact,” he whispered. “You, Lady Agatha, in the common parlance with which you are so fascinatingly familiar, ‘ain’t so tough.”