“Wilbury, my dear,” Caroline said, “would you mind taking the children and keeping them occupied for a bit?” "Twould be the high point of my golden years, my lady,” he replied with frigid politeness. “The culmination of a lifelong dream I had nearly abandoned in favour of waiting peacefully for the Grim Reaper to come and relieve me of my earthly duties.”Immune to his sarcasm, Caroline beamed fondly at him. “Thank you, Wilbury. I thought that’s what you would say.”Shuffling toward the hearth, the butler muttered under his breath, “I just love children, you know. I simply dote upon the overindulged little darlings with their grasping little hands and their sticky little fingers that foul up every freshly polished surface in the house”. As he leaned toward the hearth, the twins paused in play to gape at him. Baring his pointed yellowing teeth in a grimace of a smile, he rasped, “Come now, lads. I’ll take you to the kitchen for some nice hot chocolate.”Eyes widening in terror, the two boys leapt to their feet and ran shrieking from the room. Wilbury straightened as much as his hunched back would allow, rolling his eyes.“Wilbuwy!” Eloisa crowed, scrambling from her mother’s lap and toddling across the room. Wrapping her arms around one of the butler’s scrawny legs, she looked up and batted her long eyelashes at him. “Me want cocoa!”With a long-suffering sigh, he scooped the plump child into his arms, every one of his ancient bones creaking in protest. She joyfully tugged at his misshapen ears as he carried her toward the door. His curdled expression never varied, but as he passed Portia he gave her a nearly imperceptible wink.”

“He sensed that his bride was only a step away from bolting. Fiona's words came back to him — I've yet to meet a lass who could resist a strappin' fellow with a babe in his arms.In an effort to erase her stricken expression, he thrust his burden into her arms. "My children and I would like to welcome you to Elsinore, my lady."She eased back the blanket, then stood gazing down at the feathery perfection of the babe's head.Her eyes were as cool as the ash from yesterday's fire. "No, thank you," she finally said, handing it back to him. "I've already eaten.”

“Do you know what the best thing about getting my sight back will be?” he asked softly.“No,” she replied, all of the bravado gone from her voice.Straightening, he took one step toward her, then another. She refused to give ground until he was almoston top of her. Feeling the air shift as she retreated, he clumsily flanked her until their positions werereversed and she was the one backing toward the door. “Some might believe it would be the joy ofwatching the sun dip below a lavender horizon at the end of a perfect summer day.”When he heard her back come up against the door, he splayed one palm against the thick mahoganybehind her. “Others might judge it to be perusing the velvety petals of a ruby red rose…”—leaningforward until he felt the warm tickle of her breath against his face, he deepened his voice to a smokycaress—“or gazing tenderly into the eyes of a beautiful woman. But I can promise you, Miss Wickersham, that all of those pleasures will pale in comparison to the sheer unmitigated joy of being ridof you.”

“He would not kiss her mouth or allow her to caress him in tenderness. He broke his fierce silence only to whisper what wicked magic he was going to work until it took little more than the husky rasp of his voice in her ear to bring her to the brink of fulfillment. Had there been even a hint of brutality in his attentions, Holly might have brought herself to hate him, but his accomplished hands cherished her flesh as if it were his own private altar. She’d never known such unbridled ecstasy. Or such misery.”

“I don’t want to marry you. I don’t want to want you,” he added fiercely, taking one measured step toward her, then another. “And I sure as hell don’t want to love you. But, God help me, I just can’t stop myself.” Closing the rest of the distance between them in a single stride, he snatched her up by the shoulders, his burning gaze searching her face as if to sear her features into his memory. “I don’t want to marry you because I love you too much to ask you to spend the rest of your life hiding in the shadows.”

“Of course not! I knew you would protect me. You swore that you were strong enough to protect Vivienne, didn’t you? How can you promise to protect my sister, but not trust yourself to keep me safe?” The music swelled to a crescendo. Although Adrian kept her imprisoned against the muscular length of his body, he gave up all pretense of dancing. “Because I don’t lose my wits every time Vivienne walks into a room. I don’t toss and turn in my bed every night dreaming of making love to her. She doesn’t drive me to distraction with her endless questions, her incessant snooping, her harebrained schemes.” His voice rose. “I can trust myself to protect your sister because I’m not in love with her!”

“Stand and yield," she called out, her voice far steadier than her hands. "For I cannot allow you to pass." Bannor's crooked grin was somehow more intimidating than a snarl. 'Twould have been far easier to despise him if he'd been cursed with horns and a tail instead of twinkling blue eyes and a dimple in his jaw. "What would you have me yield, my lady? My sword or my heart?"-willow&bannor-”