149
" Last season Penelope was persuaded that a live bird would make an altogether unique accessory.” Was she bamming him? “A bird.” “A swan, in fact.” She looked quite grave. If, in fact, she was playing some type of silly game with him, she hid it well. But then one such as she had innumerable occasions to learn to hide her thoughts and feelings. It was almost a requirement, in fact. “I never noticed Lady Penelope with a swan.” She glanced swiftly up at him, and he saw the corner of her lips curve. Just slightly, and then it was gone. “Yes, well, it was only for a week. As it turns out, swans hiss—and bite.” “Lady Penelope was bitten by a swan?” “No. Actually, I was.” His brows knit at that bit of information, imagining that fair skin darkening with a bruise. He didn’t like the image. How often was Miss Greaves hurt whilst carrying out her duties as companion to Lady Penelope? "
― Elizabeth Hoyt , Duke of Midnight (Maiden Lane, #6)
152
" You’re burning,” she gasped. “Then you ought not to touch me,” he said seriously. “You’ll be consumed.” “Too late,” she muttered, and pivoted, trying to drag him, he presumed, toward the bed. “You’re awfully heavy—” “My soul is made of lead.” “—and you’re delirious,” she ended decisively. “I need to get help. "
― Elizabeth Hoyt , Duke of Desire (Maiden Lane, #12)
156
" They had taken away something very important from him when he’d been made helpless. It should’ve broken him, being forced into chains. Yet it hadn’t. Even in her grief she was amazed. She framed his face with her hands, tilting it up so she could look in his eyes. “You survived. You endured and survived.” His lips curved bitterly. “I had no choice.” She shook her head. “There’s always a choice. You could’ve given up, let them take your soul and mind, but you didn’t. You persevered. I think you are the bravest man I have ever met.” “I think, then, that you’ve not met many men,” he whispered. His voice was light, but his face still held the years of tragedy. "
― Elizabeth Hoyt , Darling Beast (Maiden Lane, #7)
158
" When he’d worked in the garden, he’d awoken as the birds had heralded the rising sun. But here inside, in a soft bed with a softer, warm woman against his side, he found it harder to brush away the tendrils of sleep. “What?” Lily mumbled as he gently removed her arm from his belly. He’d like to linger longer. To kiss her awake and make love to her again, but it was only a matter of time before the servants descended on the room. Besides, the sooner he left, the less likely that he’d run into other guests. So he dressed quickly as she sighed and rolled to burrow into the warm spot he’d left. Apollo gathered his coat and gave a last glance around the room before bending to kiss her again on the lips. Her brow wrinkled ferociously and she cracked her eyelids to mutter, “Is it?” He smiled. Evidently she wasn’t an alert waker. “I’ll see you later.” Her only reply was an unfeminine grunt as she pulled a pillow over her head. The smile still lingered as he crept into the hall and gently shut the door behind him. "
― Elizabeth Hoyt , Darling Beast (Maiden Lane, #7)