“If you put it up, I’ll just take it down again.” His voice lowered to a throaty hum, “And you know what happens when I take your hair down.”

Sabrina Jeffries

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Quote by Sabrina Jeffries: “If you put it up, I’ll just take it down again.”… - Image 1

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“Faintly, Sara heard a noise from somewhere above them, the grating of wood against wood, but she thrust the sound from her mind. Then a voice called down from above, “Cap’n? Cap’n, you down here?”Gideon tore his mouth from hers and jerked his hand back, a curse rumbling from his lips. “Yes, Silas, I’m here. I’ll be with you presently.”Shame washed over Sara in buckets as she came out of her sensual fog. Good heavens, her hand was on his breeches! And he’d been touching her with an intimacy only allowed a husband!As she snatched her hand away, the sound of descending footsteps echoed down to them. “Ive got to talk to you,” Silas said, his words punctuated by the clumping sound of his wooden leg on the steps. “It’s about that woman Louisa—““If you come any nearer, Silas” Gideon barked, “I’ll have you keelhauled, I swear I will!”


“Why are you showing this to me?”“It’s yours.” Petey snapped his head up to find that the pirate was no longer smiling. “I mean it. It’s yours. I have no use for it. What good is a scepter in paradise?”Setting the scepter down carefully on the table, Petey eyed the pirate with suspicion. “And why would you be wantin’ to give it to me?”“Can’t you guess? I want you to give up your claim to Miss Willis.”


“She realized she’d been staring only when he said, his voice lower and huskier, “Who are you looking for?”His words snapped her out of her terrible trance. “I . . . I . . .” she thought furiously and said the only thing that came to mind. “For you. I was looking for you.”Suspicion flashed in his sea-blue eyes. “In the rigging?”“Yes. Why not?”“Either you’re very ignorant about what a captain does, or you’re lying. Why is it?”Ignoring the plummeting sensation in her stomach, she forced a smile to her face. “Really, Gideon, you are so suspicious. Last night you accused me of plotting behind your back, and this morning you accuse me of lying. Who else would I be looking for but you?”


“I love you, Minerva. I love that you believe in me no matter what. I love how you take whatever you see and distill it into your books. I love your clever mind and your generous heart and every inch of your beautiful body. I love you even when you give me heart failure, by risking your life before my very eyes." He smiled tenderly. "I only hope in time I can prove worthy of your love.”


“Must you say things like that in public, for God's sake?""What do you mean?"He lowered his voice to a hiss. "Remember yesterday at the inn? My 'pistol' is making an appearance, thanks to you."She glanced down at his trousers, which only made them bulge more obviously. Then she lifted a mischievous gaze to his face. "Whatever will you do, now that you're in this...state?""Conjugate Latin," he said tersely. "Think of England. Think of anything but you and me doing--Bloody hell, there it goes again, and we're nearly to Rotten Row." He stopped short and stepped behind a bench with a high back that sat near the river.She stood next to him, pretty as the proverbial picture, her eyes dropping to his trousers with virginal curiosity. "Would you stop looking at me there? he growled. "You're not helping."She laughed. "You're the one who started it by trying to seduce me with words. Serves you right if you have to suffer for it."-Giles and Minerva”


“How dare you give the poor woman trouble over those nasty biscuits! If you made biscuits worth eating, sir, perhaps she wouldn’t throw them to the fish!”He blinked his eyes in astonishment. “Biscuits worth eating? I’ll have you know, madam, that I bake the best biscuit on the high seas!”“That’s not saying much, considering that ship’s biscuits are notoriously awful!”“It’s alright, Louisa, you needn’t defend me—“ Sara began.Louisa just ignored her. “Those biscuits were so hard, I could scarcely choke them down. As for that stew—”“Look here, you disrespectful harpy,” the cook said, punctuating his words with loud taps of his cane. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with Silas Drummond’s stew, and I defy any man—or woman—to make a better one!”