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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
Grace
Squeeze
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Suggesting
Woman
Ripe
Forgive
Forgiving
Fruit
Piece
Pieces

More quotes by Tessa Dare

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Amazing, then, how with that one remark, he made a mortifying situation thirteen times worse.
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One more minute of this, and she’d be a certifiable simpleton.
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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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He had to feel those lips on him again. Had. To. This wasn’t a mild expression of preference. This was an imperative. His body was insistent. To continue his existence on this earth, he now needed the following: food, water, shelter, clothing, and Minerva Highwood’s lips.
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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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I'm male. You rubbed your...femaleness all over me. I didn't think. I reacted.
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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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Cleverness is like rouge - liberal application makes a woman look common and desperate. Wit is knowing how to apply it.
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That’s it,” she said, balling her hands in fists. “I’m not letting you out of it this time. I insist that you take me to Scotland. I demand you ruin me. As a point of honor.
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After spending all of her girlhood fervently wishing she could run away from home— she’d actually done it.
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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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Mr. Sand, do you think it's possible to fall in love in the space of a single day? He smiled. I wouldn't know. I only fall in love at night. Never lasts beyond breakfast, though.
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Dedication: For librarians and booksellers everywhere, who gather books and build shelters for tender souls.
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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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Forgive me for speaking frankly, but after the past quarter-hour's conversation, I am unconvinced that any of you possess the sense or sensitivity to impart the news in any respectful fashion - Amelia
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He laughed. A strained, ha, ha, ha, I may die of this laugh.
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You’re a terrible cook. That I’ll grant you. You can’t hold your liquor, either. And you have questionable taste in men. So no, you’re not perfect.” His voice sank to a husky whisper, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. “But you’re close. Close enough to restore a man’s faith in miracles.
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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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So there’s an . . . an etiquette to raking. Some seducer’s code of honor. Is this what you’re telling me?
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I’m so sorry to disappoint you,” she said, breathing hard. “But it would take far more than that to scare me.” A quick flex of his arms, and their bodies collided. And he whispered, just as his mouth fell on hers, “God, I was hoping you’d say that.
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