" But from the mocking curve of his smile, she was fairly certain she'd not been able to mask her first flash of surprise.
"Forgive me," he said smoothly, and she shivered, because his voice -- it wasn't what she'd thought it would be. It sounded like the smell of brandy, and it felt like the taste of chocolate. And she wasn't so certain why she'd shivered, because now she felt rather warm. "

― Julia Quinn , What Happens in London (Bevelstoke, #2)