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“A pair of doors flew open at the end of the stage. Alice stared, riveted, as a tall, powerful figure swept out of the open doors and stalked across the stage, his face concealed by the deep hood of his robe, which was of black silk. It billowed out behind him with each determined stride as he prowled to the center of the stage with the grace of a massive black leopard. The sheen of the material reflected the flickering fires that seemed to caress him as he passed. The robe hung open down the front, revealing his black trousers and boots and his loose, white shirt with a deep, fringed V that partly bared his bronzed, sculpted chest. Alice gazed at him in wonder. Draco stopped and turned toward the crowd. White lace cuffs dripped below the sleeves of his robe as he stretched forth his large, murderously elegant hands. She could not tear her gaze away.
Though his eyes and the upper half of his face were shrouded by his hood, she stared in fascination at his square, chiseled jaw and strong chin.”
― Gaelen Foley, Lord of Fire

“He pulled back his hood, unveiling a face of burning, satanic, male beauty.
Alice held her breath, enthralled, feeling the resounding slam of some fateful premonition. 'Lucien Knight.' One look erased any lingering doubt in her mind who he was. He had the bold, patrician features of a dashing adventurer and silver eyes that glittered like diamonds. The glossy jet of his hair set off his sun-bronzed complexion and the wicked, white gleam of his smile.”
― Gaelen Foley, Lord of Fire

“The lurid red glow from the dragon's stained-glass eyes bathed the harmonious planes of his cheeks and forehead, contoured the sharp angles of his princely nose and square, determined chin. His sable hair was blacker than night in the underworld, spun from silken shadows. His silvery eyes gleamed with anarchy as he stalked toward her.”
― Gaelen Foley, Lord of Fire

“Hesitantly, she glanced at her hand, so pale and delicate looking against the sun-bronzed iron of his body. She bit her lip, knowing she was playing with fire, but truly, he was as beautiful as a god. His body was like a fine classical sculpture, while his broody, quicksilver sensitivity registered a thousand different emotions in his chiseled face, or hid them all. Though she didn't dare move even a finger to explore him, she didn't pull her hand away, either. She noticed in fascination the fierce rhythm of his pounding pulse.
"Your heart is racing," she said, sweeping her gaze up to his face.
His eyes burned like stars; his face was shadowed. He stroked her neck, his fingertips coming to rest on her artery. "So is yours.”
― Gaelen Foley, Lord of Fire

“He drove both torturous images away by losing himself in thoughts of young, delicious Alice Montague. Her shy, skeptical smile, so reluctantly given and therefore so much more precious, charmed him even now. There was a wholeness, a simplicity in her that eased him. He began to relax at last as he savored the memory of touching her, the silken tenderness of her thighs under his hands, the delectable softness of her breasts. The wonder in her response as he had tasted her warm, virginal mouth. 'So innocent,' he thought. It pleased him deeply to know that he had touched her where no one ever had, that he had been the first to kiss her.”
― Gaelen Foley, Lord of Fire

“She was momentarily distracted by the way he held the book in his hands, his fingertips subtly caressing the kid-leather binding. He had princely hands; they were large and manly, full of strength, yet ineffably elegant. She routed a shivery-sweet memory of those smooth, warm hands gliding up under her skin.
"You wished to see me, my lord?" she asked in a studiedly formal tone, one hand still on the door latch.


" 'Come live with me and be my love,
And we will some some new pleasures prove,
Of golden sands and crystal brooks,
With silken lines and silver hooks.' "


Alice blinked in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"
He slid her a disarming, rather wily smile, and continued in a low, magical singsong:


" 'Thee will the river whispering run,
Warmed by thine eyes more than the sun.
And there the enamored fish will stay,
Begging themselves they may betray.


When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Will amorously to thee swim,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.' "


A blush crept into her cheeks as pink as the rose he had sent her, but she gave him an arch look. Did the cad really expect her to fall for this?”
― Gaelen Foley, Lord of Fire

“The Alice Montague I love is not the kind of woman who uses her body to get what she wants."
Her eyes widened in surprise.
"What?" he asked insolently.
"Y-you just said you love me.”
― Gaelen Foley, Lord of Fire

“Get some rest," he advised. "You're going to have to get used to staying up late." He sent her a scoundrelly wink and slipped out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him.”
― Gaelen Foley, Lord of Fire

“Do you know where she lives?"
"Could get there blindfolded."
"Did he just blush?" Tolbert asked Marc as Lucien strode over to his black stallion and swung up into the saddle.
"I heard that," he retorted.”
― Gaelen Foley, Lord of Fire

“Do you know where she lives?"
"Could get there blindfolded."
"Did he just blush?" Talbert asked Marc as Lucien strode over to his black stallion and swung up into the saddle.
"I heard that," he retorted.”
― Gaelen Foley, Lord of Fire