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“No matter how strong our resolve, we eventually find ourselves enslaved by the compulsive preference for one particular woman. You’ve been caught, my friend. You may as well reconcile yourself to it.â€� Nick did not bother trying to deny it. “I was going to be so much smarter than you,â€� he muttered. Sir Ross grinned. “I prefer to think that intelligence has nothing to do with it. For if a man’s intellect is measured by his ability to remain untouched by love, I would be the greatest idiot alive.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“You ignorant whelp. You dare to warn me away from her? I created her. Without my influence, Charlotte would be a bovine in the country with a half-dozen children at her skirts...or spreading her legs for every man who dropped a coin between her breasts. I've spent a fortune to make her into something far better than she was ever meant to be."

"Why don't you send me a bill?"

"It would beggar you," Radnor assured him with raw contempt.

"Send it anyway," Nick invited gently. "I'll be interested to learn the cost of creating someone.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“For a moment Lottie couldn't speak as she stared up into his handsome face. Nature had been spendthrift with this man, bestowing him with bold, princely features and eyes as blue and intense as the heart of midnight. The cynicism in those eyes was a fascinating contrast to the touch of humor that lurked at the corners of his wide mouth. He looked to be about thirty- the time in a man's life when he surrendered the last vestiges of callowness and came fully to his maturity. No doubt women of all ages were instantly enthralled by him.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“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

“Don't you know me, Sophia?" came his anguished whisper. He shocked her by sinking to the floor and clutching handfuls of her skirts, his dark head buried against her knees.
She was dumbstruck as she stared at the hands tangled in her skirts. A harsh sob lodged in her throat as she touched the back of his left hand. There was a small, star-shaped scar in the center. It was the same scar that John had gotten in childhood, when he had carelessly brushed it against a fireplace iron still hot from the coals. Tears continued to slip down her cheeks, and she covered the mark with her own hand.
His head lifted, and he stared at her with eyes that she now recognized were exactly like her own. "Please," he whispered.
"It's all right," she said unsteadily. "I believe you, John. I do know you. I should have seen it at once, but you are much changed."
He responded with a sorrowful growl, struggling to contain his feelings.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Lady Sophia's Lover

“She could hardly believe that this truculent stranger was her brother. "Nick," she said, testing his name on her tongue. "Why did you give me those presents? It nearly drove me mad, wondering who had sent them. And I was terrified that Sir Ross would think I was carrying on with a secret lover."
"Sorry," he muttered, flashing her a contrite smile. "I wanted to be a- a benefactor. To give you the things you deserve. I never meant for us to meet. But the need to see you became so strong that I couldn't bear it any longer."
"And that is why you approached me at Silverhill Park?"
He gave her the smile of a naughty schoolboy.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Lady Sophia's Lover

“One foot after another; he tried to keep his mind clear. But a thought broke his concentration- Sophia. Once he left London, he would never be able to see her again. Nick did not identify his feelings for her as love, because he knew himself to be incapable of that emotion. But he was conscious of a rip in his soul, a sense that to leave her for good would mean the loss of the fragment of decency he still possessed. She was the only person on earth who still cared for him, who would continue to care, no matter what he did.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Lady Sophia's Lover

“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

“You seem to have no fear of heights, Miss Miller," he commented.
"I'm not afraid of anything," she said confidently.
"Everyone is afraid of something."
"Oh?" She sent him a provocative glance. "What could a man like you possibly fear?"
To her surprise, he answered seriously. "I'm not fond of enclosed places."
The gravity in his tone made her heart thump heavily. What a voice he had, deep with a tantalizing raspiness, as if he had just awakened from a heavy sleep. The sound seemed to gather at the top of her spine and slide downward like heated honey. "Neither am I," she admitted.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“He should have appeared vulnerable in his nakedness, but he seemed more powerful now than when he'd had his clothes on. His body was hewn with brutal grace, large and muscular and superbly fit. His bronze tan ended at his waistline, fading into the paler skin of his hips. A wealth of thick dark hair covered his chest, and there was another heavy patch of it at his groin, around the dark, upthrust length of his erection.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“Gentry was reclining on his side, propped up on one elbow, the broad outline of his shoulders obscuring most of the light shed by the bedside lamp. His body was so large and sheltering, his self-confidence so substantial, that it seemed as if she could wrap it around herself like a blanket and stay safe forever.
Shrewdly, he understood her Achilles' heel- that terrible need for sanctuary- and he did not hesitate to make use of it. He slid his arm over her waist, his hand resting on the middle of her back, his thumb brushing along the stiff arc of her spine. "I'll take care of you, Lottie. I'll keep you safe and provide all the comforts you require. All I want in return is for you to enjoy yourself with me. That isn't so terrible, is it?"
He had Lucifer's own skill of making what he sounded perfectly reasonable. Discerning her weakness, he leaned over until the solid weight of his body was poised above her and his thigh pressed into the mattress between her legs. "Kiss me," he whispered. The sweet, drugging spice of his breath and skin sent her thoughts scattering like dry leaves in the wind.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“Gentry seemed capable of almost anything, as if he could lie, steal, or even kill without a flicker of remorse. There was no softness in him, and Sophia guessed that any sense of mercy or compassion had been driven from him long ago. But he was still her brother.
Wonderingly, she lifted her hand to the side of his face. He remained still beneath her cradling fingers. "John, I never allowed myself to hope that you were still alive."
Gently he took her hand from his face, as if he found it difficult to tolerate another person's touch. "I was shocked when I saw you in the Bow Street strong room," he muttered. "I knew who you were at once, even before I heard your name.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Lady Sophia's Lover

“A cold grin flashed across his face. "I'm not guilty of half the things I'm accused of. But I encourage the rumors, and I never deny even the worst of them. I want people to regard me with fear and respect. Good for business."
"Are you saying that you haven't stolen from people, and framed and betrayed and blackmailed-"
Gentry interrupted her with a sound that expressed pure annoyance. "I'm not a saint."
Despite Sophia's distress, she almost wanted to laugh at the understatement.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Lady Sophia's Lover

“I have a fortune, Sophia. I'm going to buy you a house somewhere... France or Italy... where you can live like a lady. I'll give you an account so that you'll never have to worry about money again."
Her mouth hung open as she stared at him. "John... Nick... I don't want to live abroad! Everything that holds value for me is here."
"Oh?" His voice became dangerously soft. "What would keep you here?”
― Lisa Kleypas, Lady Sophia's Lover

“Now that we've come to an agreement, I'll take you back to your cell," Ross said pleasantly. "You'll be released tomorrow morning. In the meanwhile, I have some arrangements to make."
"Ross," Sophia said anxiously, "must John go back in there tonight?"
"Yes." His gaze dared her to protest.
Prudently she kept her mouth closed, although it was clear that she longed to plead for her brother's sake.
"It's all right, Sophia," Gentry murmured. "I've stayed in worse places than this." He slanted a baleful glance at Ross as he added, "Courtesy of your husband.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Lady Sophia's Lover

“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

“Lottie scarcely had time to appreciate the graceful design of the house's interior before they were approached by a lovely woman.
The woman's blond hair was much darker than her own, the color of aged honey. It had to be Lady Cannon, whose face was a delicate copy of Gentry's severely handsome features. Her nose was less bold, her chin defined but not quite as decisive as her brother's, her complexion fair instead of tanned. The eyes, however, were the same distinctive blue; rich, dark, and fathomless. Lady Cannon was so youthful in appearance that one would never have guessed that she was older than her brother by four years.
"Nick," she exclaimed with an exuberant laugh, coming forward and lifting up on her toes to receive his kiss. He enclosed her in a brief hug, rested his chin on the crown of her head, then drew back to look at her appraisingly. In that one instant, Lottie saw the remarkable depth of feeling between the two, which had somehow survived years of distance, loss, and deception.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“The light played over her dark golden hair, bringing out shades of wheat and honey in the shining filaments. She was an uncommonly pretty woman, her delicate, decisive features a feminine echo of Nick's strong face.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“He heard the rattle of pipes as Lottie started the shower-bath, and then her hesitant tap at the door.
"I've brought your dressing robe," came her muffled voice. Her hand appeared around the doorframe with the burgundy velvet clutched between her fingers.
Nick looked at her small hand, the tender inside of her wrist with the little tracing of veins. Last night it had been easy to find every throb of her pulse, every vulnerable place of her body. He found himself reaching out, ignoring the robe in favor of wrapping his fingers around her delicate wrist. He pushed the door fully open and pulled her in front of him, looking down into her flushed face. It was not difficult for her to see what he wanted.
"I don't need a robe," he said gruffly, pulling the garment from her hand and dropping it to the floor.”
― 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

“We have received more than a few invitations to visit friends in the country." Lottie came beside him and sank to the carpeted floor, the skirts of her printed muslin skirts billowing around her. Their faces were nearly level as Nick reclined on the arm of the low-backed settee. "Even one from Westcliff, asking if we would stay a fortnight or so at Stony Cross Park."
Nick's face darkened. "No doubt the earl wants to assure himself that you're not being maltreated by your husband from hell."
Lottie couldn't help laughing. "You must admit that you were not at your most charming then."
Nick caught at her fingers as she reached over to loosen his necktie. "I wanted you too badly to bother with charm." The pad of his thumb stroked over the smooth tips of her fingernails.
"You implied that I was interchangeable with any other woman," she chided.
"In the past I learned that the best way to get something I wanted was to pretend that I didn't want it."
Lottie shook her head, perplexed. "That makes no sense at all."
Smiling, Nick released her hand and toyed the edge of her scooped neckline. "It worked," he pointed out.
With their faces close together and his vivid blue eyes staring into hers, Lottie felt a blush climbing her face. "You were very wicked that night."
His fingertip eased into the shallow valley between her breasts. "Not as nearly as wicked as I wanted to be...”
― Lisa Kleypas, Worth Any Price

“The other four in the gang were hanged in short order, but because of my age, the magistrate handed me a lesser sentence. Ten months on the Scarborough."
"Sir Ross was the magistrate who sentenced you," Lottie murmured, remembering what Sophia had told her.
A bitter smile twisted Nick's mouth. "Little did either of us know that we would someday be brothers-in-law.”
― 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

“I never wanted to live so much as I did right then, hanging onto that rotting timber," Nick said. "I couldn't bear the thought of never seeing you again. All I want is time with you. To spend the rest of my life with you. I don't care about anything else."
Murmuring her love to him, Lottie kissed the hard silken skin of his shoulder.
"Remember when I told you once that I needed to be a runner?" he asked.
Lottie nodded. "You said that you were addicted to the challenge and the danger."
"I'm not any longer," he said vehemently.
"Thank God for that," Lottie said with a smile, lifting herself up on one elbow. "Because I have become rather addicted to you."
Nick traced the moonlit curve of her back with his fingers. "And I finally know what to wish for."
Puzzled, she gazed down at him while the long locks of her hair trailed over his chest and shoulders. "What?"
"The wishing well," he reminded her.
"Oh, yes..." Lottie lowered her face to his chest and nuzzled the soft fur, recalling that morning in the forest. "You wouldn't make a wish."
"Because I didn't know what I wanted. And now I do."
"What do you want?" she asked tenderly.
His hand slipped behind her head, pulling her mouth down to his. "To love you forever," he whispered just before their lips met.”
― 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