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Whitney: You black-hearted, treacherous, conniving scoundrel. Clayton: Your flattery warms my heart

Judith McNaught

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Judith McNaught
Age: 80
Born: 1944
Born: May 10
Author
Novelist
Writer
San Luis Obispo
California
Flattery
Hearted
Clayton
Black
Conniving
Heart
Scoundrel
Warms
Whitney
Scoundrels
Treacherous

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How am I doing so far? she asked, forcing a cheerful lightness into her voice. You're doing very well, Nick's lazy voice mocked. I'm half convinced that I'm invisible.
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I want more from life than that and I have more to give.
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Life was wonderful, so filled with people and activities, with love and laughter.
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An answering smile drifted across his tanned face. What is mine, I intend to keep.
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Missing you? she giggled incredulously. I could cheerfully murder you. I'd come back to haunt you, he threatened with a grin. And that, she said, is the only reason why I haven't tried.
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I love life, even when bad things happen to me. I can't stop loving it. Every season of the year comes with a promise that something wonderful is going to happen to me someday.
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Royce Westmoreland stared at him with biting scorn. I despise hypocrisy, particularly when it is coated with holiness. May I ask for a specific example? Fat priests, Royce replied, with fat purses, who lecture staving peasants on the dangers of gluttony and the merits of poverty.
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Jason, stop this,” she pleaded. “You don’t want to kiss me. You don’t even like me more than a little when you aren’t foxed” A harsh laugh escaped him. “I like you too damned much!” he whispered bitterly, then pulled her head down and captured her lips in a demaning, scalding kiss that took everything and give nothing in return.
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I think we women underrate ourselves when it comes to our courage and strength.
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But he knew instinctively what he suggested was impossible. She'd been through so much, and held her tears back for so long, that Royce doubted that anything could force her to shed them.
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Love and all the obsessive behaviors associated with it, was an absurd emotion.
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Now they are empty, Ramon replied with a shrug of broad, muscled shoulders on his six-foot-three-inch frame....For the first time, a glint of humor touched Ramon Galverra's finely sculpted mouth and arrogant dark eyes.
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His gaze held hers, and his voice was tender and rough. “Love me, Elizabeth.” Elizabeth felt a tremor run through her entire body, but she looked at him without flinching. “I do.
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What hap­pens to me if this slip­per fits? I turn you into a hand­some frog.
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Either give me your hand, or end it now, and put us both out of our misery
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Feeling a little foolish over her confidences, Elizabeth glanced up at him with an embarrassed smile. “What is the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen?” Dragging his gaze from the beauty of the gardens, Ian looked down at the beauty beside him. “Any place,” he said huskily, “where you are.
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Some of the most unkind,judgmental people I've ever known go to church every Sunday and read the Bible. I don't know how some people are able to disassociate their own cruelty and shortcomings from their religious obligations and convictions, but many are able to do that.
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Sometimes it just happens - to the wrong people at the wrong time.
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I ought to break your neck! Clayton interrupted. Too late, Whitney realized that she shouldn't have been standing all this time on her injured knee. Allow me to congratulate you on a fine day's work, Madam, he said sternly. In less than twelve hours, you've brought Whitticomb to your side and Cuthbert to your feet.
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God help me if I ever injure my back, Clayton quipped. God help you if you ever turn it, Whitney snapped, for there'll surely be some heartbroken papa or cuckolded husband ready with a knife--if I don't murder you first.
Judith McNaught