“First, I thought we'd already established that I am not a gentleman. That ship sailed long ago. And second, you'd be surprised what gentlemen do...and what ladies enjoy."~Lord Bourne”

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” Chase asked.“I sleep.” Not much.“How long since you’ve slept more than an hour here and there?”“I do not require a mother.”Chase lifted a brow. “Perhaps a wife, then?”Bourne wished Chase were in the damn ring, too.”

“Lord Nicholas St. John was their only hope, and she had been on the roof when he arrived, for heaven's sake. Ladies did not go traipsing about on rooftops.And certainly gentlemen did not frequent the homes of those ladies who did traipse about on roortops. It did not matter if the rooftop in question was in dire need of repair.Or that the lady in question had no choice.”

“Chase picked up the card. “I’m happy to share from my personal experience, if you like.”Temple grinned at his hand. “And I.”It was all too much. “I do not need advice. She enjoyed it immensely.”“I hear they don’t all enjoy it right off the bat,” Cross said.“That is true,” Chase said, all expertise.“It’s fine if she didn’t, old man,” Temple offered. “You can try again.”“She enjoyed it.” Bourne’s voice was low and tight, and he thought he might kill the next person who spoke.“Well, one thing is for certain,” Temple said, casually, and Bourne ignored the pang of disappointment that the enormous man was very likely the only one at the table he could not kill.”

“He smiled, setting his forehead to hers. "you are very bad for me. I am trying to turn over a new leaf--I am trying to be more gentlemanly." "But what if I want you to stay a rake?" she teased, her fingers trailing down his neck and chest, fingering the buttons on his waistcoat. "A libertine, even?" she slipped one fastening from its seat and he grabbed her errant hand, bringing it to his lips for a swift kiss. "Callie," he said, his voice thick with warning as she set her free hand to the second button on his coat. "What if I want the rogue, Gabriel?" the question was soft and sweet. "What are you saying?"She kissed across the firm square line of his jaw and whispered to him, shyness in her shaking voice, "Take me to bed, Gabriel. Give me a taste of scandal.”

“Juliana?” the words were low and far—too calm for her husband, who had found that he rather enjoyed the full spectrum of emotion now that he had experienced it.“Yes?”“What are you doing twenty feet in the air?”“Looking for a book.”“Would you mind very much returning to the earth?”“What are you thinking, climbing to the rafters in your condition?”“I am not an invalid, Simon, I still have use of all my extremes.”“You do indeed—particularly your extreme ability to try my patience—I believe, however, that you mean extremities.”

“Fortuitous mostly for me,Lady Holloway," she said, her gaze steadfast on her husband. "For without our being childhgood neighbors, I am certain that my husband woud never have found me."Michael's gaze lit with admiration, and he lifted his glass in her direction. "At some point I would have realized what I was missing, darling. An I would have come looking for you.”