“A god in the hand is worth two on Olympus.”

“A grin broke across Heath's hansome face. "The last time I saw such a collection of Boscastles in church was at Father's funeral. Who invited the mistresses?""I think I did, "Grayson said, suppressing a yawn."God knows I've been sitting here so long my brain's gone stiff.""You invited them to a wedding?""It's not my wedding thank God.""Well, it is your chapel.""Ergo I invite whom I please.""Someone might have thought to invite the groom.”

“Heath slid two fingers beneath Adrian’s white neckcloth to feel his pulse. “In that case, I can state with complete confidence that he shall be all right.”“Then why isn’t he moving?” she asked in a distraught voice.Heath smiled. “Ask him.”She looked down into a pair of hazel eyes smoldering with unholy mirth. Adrian’s lean cheek pressed into the curve of her breast.A wolf, indeed.”

“The host in question, the chapel's owner, Grayston Boscastle, the fifth Marquess of Sedgecroft, sat thinking that the bride had the most appealing derriere he had seen in a long time. Not that he made a point of lusting after young women in wedding dresses, but he had been staring at the back of her for over two hours now. A normal man's curiosity could not help but be aroused. What else was he to look at? He wondered whether the rest of her was appealing.”

“Lord Sedgecroft--""Ssh. It isn't polite to interrupt me when I'm kissing you.”

“Long live tomorrow's foolish whims.”

“You look even better than you did before," he added in a quiet voice. "I'm the one returning to the party with his rhubarb at full rise.”