Home > Work > The Captive (Captive Hearts, #1)
1 " You like this darkness. You like learning me by feel.” Feeling very bold indeed, she nuzzled at him until she found his mouth with her own. “I like it too. "
― Grace Burrowes , The Captive (Captive Hearts, #1)
2 " We shall not be indiscreet here in the broad light of day,” she said, but she’d left a question in the words when she’d intended a stern admonition.He smiled down at her. “Someday, Gillian, I will have you writhing and moaning in the broad light of day. Outdoors even.”“You’d get leaves in my hair.” She could afford the humor, because he was behaving.“Among other places, but then I’d help you remove them. "
3 " It was a struggle to not fall in love with a man who was determined to be decent to her when what she sought was indulgence of her wanton nature.Her recently discovered, very frustrated wanton nature, damn him. "
4 " Can you detest me so much as all that?” His lips quirked, as if he’d made a jest, but those eyes of his were watchful and serious, and Gilly realized abruptly she’d swum into even deeper waters than she’d feared. “You are good-looking,” she said, her tone resentful. “Too good-looking and good-smelling and good-sounding, and now you’ve become nigh brawny yourself. I cannot think straight when you’re giving orders and duking about, and when you turn up charming and reasonable, I am even more befuddled.” “Is to duke a verb now? "
5 " Put me down,” she said before he’d left her bedroom. “I am indisposed.” “By ill humor? This is no impediment to what I have planned for you. For us.” “Christian, no.” He peered down at her, looking so dear, so bewildered and ducal at the same time, she took pity on him. “I am…enduring a feminine indisposition.” “For pity’s sake…” He sat with her on her bed. “No wonder you’ve been such a shrew lately. Poor lamb.” He kissed her temple, and she wanted to smack him. “I have not been a shrew.” “No, dearest.” He kissed her again, trying not to smile. “Of course you haven’t. "
6 " You look delectable, if a tad pleasantly disheveled. We’re about to talk though, so you’d best get comfortable.” “Yes, Your Grace.” She closed her eyes and snuggled down, letting her use of his title serve to chide him. That same tone had never failed to make Greendale— She would not think of Greendale. “Will you still be Your-Gracing me when I’m inside you, Gilly? Will you call me Mercia when passion overcomes your reason and you cry out in pleasure? "
7 " Drastic measures were called for, or one of them would soon be in strong hysterics. “Oh, fine, then,” he groused. “Get yourself killed and leave a man to grieve all over again when he’s hardly getting his bearings.” He sat back against the headboard and folded his arms behind his head. “Leave his only surviving child utterly bereft, cast adrift by a cousin too cavalier to accept the protection lying immediately to hand.” He raised his gaze toward the shadows flickering on the ceiling. “Go ahead and thwart my authority as head of the family, head of the household, and the local magistrate.” Gilly crawled across the mattress, which was roughly the dimensions of a foaling stall. “Leave me to drown in guilt and helpless rage,” he went on. “To waste my remaining years in fervent prayer for your immortal and entirely too stubborn and misguided soul. Strong drink will be necessary in quantity, I’m sure, and given the bodily ordeals I’ve been subjected—” “Hush.” She looped his arm across her shoulders and curled down against him. “I’ll stay here for now, but you must hush. "
