Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

“It was clear that Charlotte had changed from the girl her parents, friends, and Radnor himself had known. She had become accustomed to living in the moment, with no thought given to the future. The knowledge that she was being hunted, that her days of precious freedom were limited, should have made her bitter and disillusioned. And yet she still threw pins into wishing wells. A wish. The flicker of hope that implied... it had struck at his soul, when he had believed he had no soul left.
He could not give her to Radnor.
He had to take her for himself.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“She fell asleep rapidly, swimming through a haze of pleasant images... walking through the forest in Hampshire... dangling her feet in a cool pond on a hot day... pausing in the kissing gate, while the smell of sun-warmed meadowsweet rose thickly to her nostrils. She closed her eyes and tilted her chin upward, relishing the sultry rays, while a butterfly's wings brushed lightly against her cheek. Entranced by the delicate tickle, she held very still. The silken strokes moved over the tip of her nose, the sensitive periphery of her upper lip, the tender corners of her mouth.
Searching blindly, she lifted her face to the brushes of warmth and was rewarded by a gentle pressure that opened her lips and drew a moan from the upper part of her lungs. Lord Sydney was standing with her in the kissing gate, his arms trapping her against the painted ribs of latticework. His mouth searched hers so gently, his body firm against hers, and she writhed in a mute plea for him to hold her more tightly. Seeming to know exactly what she wanted, he pushed his knee into her skirts, right against the place that felt swollen and yearning. Gasping, she curled her fingers in his glossy hair, and he whispered for her to relax, that he would take care of her, satisfy her-
"Oh." Blinking hard, she stirred from the sensuous dream as she realized that she was not alone. The bed curtains had been drawn aside, and Nick Gentry's long body was entangled with hers. One large hand was cupped beneath her hips, while his leg wedged more intimately between hers. His breath surged against her ear, filling the shell with moist heat, and then his lips wandered back to hers in a searing path. He absorbed her protest as he kissed her, his tongue searching her mouth, his body levering over hers.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“Sophia drifted closer to Nick, employing her fan to mask the movement of her lips as she murmured to him, "I told you so."
Nick smiled wryly, recalling his sister's claim that Lottie would prove to be a great asset to him. "Those are without doubt the four most irritating words in the English language, Sophia."
"She is a dear creature, and far too good for you," his sister informed him with amusement dancing in her eyes.
"I've never claimed otherwise.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“Lottie had devised three or four different walks, each lasting approximately an hour. This morning she chose the one that began along Hill Road, crossed through a medieval oak and hazel forest, and passed the source of a local spring called the Wishing Well. It was a cool, damp morning typical of the beginning of May, and Lottie drew in deep breaths of the earth-scented air. Dressed in a gown with loose ankle-lemgth skirts, her feet shod in sturdy mid-calf boots, Lottie trod energetically away from Westcliff Manor. She followed a sandy track that led into the forest, while natterjack toads hopped out of the path of her oncoming boots. The trees rustled overhead, the wind carrying the cries of nuthatches and whitethroats. A huge, ungainly buzzard flapped its way toward the nearby bogs in search of breakfast.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“The gown Lottie had decided to wear tonight was a pale blue satin overlaid with white tulle, with a daring scooped neckline that bared the tops of her shoulders. Lottie stood in the center of the bedroom while Mrs. Trench and Harriet pulled the billowing gown over her head and helped guide her arms through the puffed sleeves of stiffened satin. It was a gown as beautiful- no, more beautiful- than any she had seen during the parties at Hampshire. Thinking of the ball she was about to attend, and Nick's reaction when he saw her, Lottie was nearly giddy with excitement.
Her light-headedness was no doubt encouraged by the fact that her corset was laced with unusual tightness, to enable Mrs. Trench to fasten the close-fitting gown. Wincing in the confinement of stays and laces, Lottie stared into the looking glass as the two women adjusted the ballgown. The transparent white tulle overslip was embroidered with sprays of white silk roses. White satin shoes, long kid gloves, and an embroidered gauze scarf were the final touches, making Lottie feel like a princess. The only flaw was her stick-straight hair, which refused to hold a curl no matter how hot the tongs were. After several fruitless attempts to create a pinned-up mass of ringlets, Lottie opted for a simple braided coil atop her head, encircled with fluffy white roses.
When Harriet and Mrs. Trench stood back to view the final results of their labors, Lottie laughed and did a quick turn, making the blue skirts whirl beneath the floating white tulle.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“An exceptional choice for a wife, Sydney," the elderly man remarked. "Poised, unaffected, and quite lovely. You are quite fortunate."
No one would have disagreed with that, least of all Nick. Lottie was a revelation this evening, her gown stylish but not too sophisticated, her smile easy, her posture as regal as that of a young queen. Neither the grandeur of their surroundings nor the hundreds of curious gazes seemed to disturb her composure. She was so polished and immaculately pretty that no one suspected the layer of steel beneath her exterior. No one would ever guess that she was the kind of young woman who would have defied her parents and lived by her own wits for two years... the kind of woman who could hold her own against a hardened Bow Street runner.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“He finally understood Radnor's obsession.
Charlotte Howard was the most bewitching woman he had ever met. She radiated a remarkable force of will that somehow conveyed the impression of movement even when she stood still. Her body, her face, every part of her was a perfect amalgam of delicacy and strength.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“Reaching over the side of the bed, Nick searched in the discarded heap of his clothes and found the miniature. With an expertise born of habit, he pressed the cache of the enameled case and flipped it open. Settling on his back, he stared into Charlotte's exquisite little face.
Is it you? he thought, tracing the line of her cheek with his fingertip.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“As he felt the small weight of the enameled miniature case in his coat pocket, Nick briefly regretted the fact that he would have to return it to Radnor. He had carried it, stared at it, for two months, and it had become a sort of talisman. The lines of Lottie's face, the shade of her hair, the sweet curve of her mouth, had been carved into his brain long before he had met her. And yet the likeness- that of a pretty but rather ordinary face- had captured nothing of what had made her so desirable. What was it about her that moved him so? Perhaps it was her mixture of fragility and valiance... the intensity that simmered beneath her quiet exterior... the electrifying hints that she possessed a sensuality that rivaled his own.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“She inhaled sharply as she felt him nuzzle the fragile wisps of hair at her nape. "How soft you are," he breathed. "Like silk. Like kitten fur."
The touch of his lips sent a ripple through the overheated core of her body. "Nick, I-"
"Mrs. Trench told me that you tried the shower-bath." His hand coasted from her hip to the indentation of her waist. "Did you like it?"
"It was very refreshing," Lottie managed to say.
"I'm going to watch you the next time."
"Oh, no you won't!"
He laughed quietly and offered, "I'll let you watch me, then."
Before she could stop herself, Lottie imagined him standing in the shower-bath, the water coursing and gliding over his skin, darkening his hair, steam veiling his sapphire eyes. The image was a vague one, as she had never seen a naked man, only the engraved images in an anatomy book she had found in Lord Westcliff's library. She had pored over the drawings with fascination, wishing that certain details had been more fully articulated.
Soon she would not have to wonder.
He seemed to read her thoughts. "It's not wrong to like it," he said, stroking her midriff with his palm. "Whom will it benefit if you deny yourself pleasure? You're paying the price for my protection- you may as well get some enjoyment out of it.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“The dessert plates were arranged with delicate biscuits and pineapple cream served in cunning little glazed pots.
Sir Ross introduced a new topic of conversation concerning some recently proposed amendments to the Poor Law, which both he and Gentry supported. Surprisingly, Sophia offered her own opinions on the subject, and the men listened attentively. Lottie tried to conceal her astonishment, for she had been taught for years that a proper woman should never express her opinions in mixed company. Certainly she should say nothing about politics, an inflammatory subject that only men were qualified to debate. And yet here was a man as distinguished as Sir Ross seeming to find nothing wrong in his wife's speaking her mind. Nor did Gentry seem displeased by his sister's outspokenness.
Perhaps Gentry would allow her the same freedom. With that pleasant thought in her mind, Lottie consumed her pineapple cream, a rich, silky custard with a tangy flavor. Upon reaching the bottom of the pot, she thought longingly of how nice it would be to have another. However, good manners and the fear of appearing gluttonous made it unthinkable to request seconds.
Noticing the wistful glance Lottie gave her empty dish, Gentry laughed softly and slid his own untouched dessert to her plate. "You have even more of a taste for sweets than little Amelia," he murmured in her ear. His warm breath caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise.
"We didn't have desserts at school," she said with a sheepish smile.
He took his napkin and dabbed gently at the corner of her mouth. "I can see that I'll have a devil of a time trying to compensate for all the things you were deprived of. I suppose you'll want sweets with every meal now."
Pausing in the act of lifting her spoon, Lottie stared into the warm blue eyes so close to hers, and suddenly she felt wreathed in heat. Ridiculous, that all he had to do was speak with that caressing note in his voice, and she could be so thoroughly undone.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“He cupped a hand around her wet head and rubbed his mouth over her sodden hair, her saturated lashes, the round tip of her nose. Just as he reached her lips, she turned her face away, and he growled in frustration, dying for the taste of her. He had never wanted anything so badly. For a split second he was tempted to hold her head in his hands and crush his mouth on hers. But that wouldn't satisfy him... he could not get what he wanted from her with force.
Carrying Lottie from the shower-bath, he dried them both before the hearth in the bedroom and combed Lottie's long hair. The fine strands were dark amber when wet, turning to a pale shade of champagne when they were dry. Admiring the contrast of the shining locks against his velvet robe, he smoothed them with his fingers.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“Her eyes were clear, dark brown, like cups of shimmering caravan tea. Nick stared into her sweetly curved face, the chin too pointed, the nose too short. The little imperfections made her beauty unique and endlessly interesting, whereas more classically shaped features would have bored him quickly.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“You never loved me." It hurt her throat to speak, but she forced herself to continue. "You don't know the meaning of the word."
The pistol shook harder. "How can you say that after all that I have sacrificed for you? Are you really so ignorant?"
"In all the years that we've known each other, you've demonstrated domination, obsession, and desire... but those things aren't love."
"Then tell me what love is." His voice was thick with scorn.
"Respect. Acceptance. Selflessness. All the things my husband has shown me in just a few short weeks. My flaws don't matter to him. He loves me without conditions. And I love him the same way.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“It was all worth it, then?" he asked quietly.
Settling back in his chair, Nick looked once more at his wife, loving her with an intensity that he never would have believed himself capable of. For the first time in his life he was at peace with himself and the world, no longer haunted by shades of the past. "Yes," he said simply, his soul alight with gladness as Lottie looked back at him once more.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price