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Forgive me, Your Grace. Are you suggesting a woman is some sort of … piece of fruit to you? One squeeze, and you know if she’s ripe?

Tessa Dare

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Tessa Dare
Pieces
Grace
Squeeze
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Woman
Ripe
Forgive
Forgiving
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Piece

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Anne Barton is a delightful new voice in historical romance! Once She Was Tempted is a charming read, with characters who are easy to love--a wounded earl and a determined heroine whose heart won't be denied.
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Her,” he said. “I’ll take her.
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The Blushing Pansy, his cousin read aloud, in a tone of abject horror. Tea shop and confectionery. Bram swore. This was going to be ugly.
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A home isn’t only defined by what you need, Bram. It’s also about the people who need you
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What on earth are you wearing? Did you take orders in a convent since we spoke last? Little Sisters of the Drab and Homely.
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Kate realized she had a grave problem. She was infatuated. Or mildly insane. Possibly both.
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What is the world coming to, with these modern women? A man can't tell them what to do.
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I don’t know. What do people see when they gaze at the sky? Inspiration? Beauty?” She heard him sigh. “Truth be told, this view always intimidated me. The sky’s so vast. I can’t help but feel it has expectations of me. Ones I’m already failing.” He was silent for a long moment. “It reminds me of your eyes.
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So odd. Most women of his acquaintance relied on physical beauty and charm to mask their less-pleasant traits. This girl did the opposite, hiding everything interesting about herself behind a prim, plain facade. What other surprises was she concealing?
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Cleverness is like rouge - liberal application makes a woman look common and desperate. Wit is knowing how to apply it.
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You are a sweet man. -God, there it is. He flopped back on the bed, as if shot through the heart. Repeat that to anyone, and I will have you brought up on charges of slander. I wouldn't dream of telling a soul.
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I know how mirrors work. They're all in league with the cosmetics trade. They tell a woman lies. Drawing her gaze from one imagined flaw to another, until all she sees is a constellation of imperfections. If you could get outside yourself, borrow my eyes for just an instant... There is only beauty.
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No, Susanna, he said. I cannot love you just a little. If that's what you want, you must find a different man. His green eyes were breathtaking in their intensity. His thumb brushed her bottom lip. Because I can only love you entirely. With everything I am, and everything I ever will be. Body, mind, heart, soul.
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What? You mean to travel almost five hundred miles alone? No. I can’t let you do that. I . . . I forbid you.” It was Colin’s first attempt at forbidding anyone to do anything, and it worked about as well as he’d expected it to. Which was to say, not at all.
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He was right. They could have a whole conversation without exchanging a word. And the conversation they had right now went like this: Colin, shut it. I don’t think I will, M. Then I’ll make you. Really? How?I’m not certain, but it will be slow and painful. And I won’t leave any evidence.
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I’m so sorry we’ll never meet,” she whispered, laying her posy atop the late Lord and Lady Payne’s grave. “But thank you. For him. I promise, I’ll love him as fiercely as I can. Kindly send down some blessings when you can spare them. We’ll probably need them, from time to time.
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He kissed her. Without warning, without permission. Without even deciding to do it, but simply because he couldn't have done anything else. He needed that breath she was holding. It belonged to him, and he wanted it back.
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Jesus. Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalene. Delilah, Jezebel, Salome, Judith, Eve. Trouble, every last one. Add Minerva Highwood to the list.
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Amazing, then, how with that one remark, he made a mortifying situation thirteen times worse.
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He laughed. A strained, ha, ha, ha, I may die of this laugh.
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