4
" With most women he would use flattery and flirtation, appealing to both their vanity and their pleasure. But Grace was no ordinary woman. With her, he knew he would have to take a more subtle approach. Less than half a minute into their acquaintance, he'd sensed her reserve, as well as her insecurity. He surmised she wasn't used to being boldly pursued by men, so any sudden, overt interest on his part would only provoke her suspicions and put her on the alert.
Instead, his approach would require a deft touch and gentle, patient persuasion. A shy doe required proper coaxing, after all. The key was to figure out what kind of inducement she liked best and be there to offer it. "
― Tracy Anne Warren , Seduced by His Touch (The Byrons of Braebourne, #2)
5
" You designed the garden then?"
"Oh no, 'twasn't meself at all. His lordship did all the work. Had drawings and lists of every plant be used and knew exactly where he wanted 'em put. Knew all the Latin names of 'em too. Saw that first plan meself with all his notes and jots before he gave me another copy with the common ones writ out so I could tell what they were. He asked me what I thought and if a lady would like it. Says as I thought the Queen herself would approve."
Breath grew thin in her lungs, her pulse speeding faster in confusion. Jack had done all this? Had arranged for the planting of this garden months ago before she'd even known about the house?
"Yup, even a Queen would like it, I says," she heard the gardener continue. "An' do ye know what he says back?"
"No," she whispered in a faint voice. "W-what did he say?"
He gave her a smile. "He says it doesn't matter if a Queen likes it, 'cause the only woman who matters is his wife. 'If this garden makes her smile,' he told me, 'then my efforts will have been all worthwhile.' "
Her hand shook as she realized that Jack had designed the garden.
For her! "
― Tracy Anne Warren , Seduced by His Touch (The Byrons of Braebourne, #2)
9
" Nestled into a bed of shiny cream satin lay a heart-shaped pendant on a simple gold chain. The heart itself was created from over a dozen delicate round amethyst stones, while the center held a miniature painted on porcelain. Done in a series of fine, delicate strokes, the artist's rendering depicted a tiny garden, alive with masses of yellow and white hollyhocks.
Right away, they reminded her of the flowers she'd been drawing that long-ago day in Bath. The day of her and Jack's very first kiss.
Her gaze went to his, breath stilled in her chest. "Oh, Jack. It's Sydney Gardens, isn't it?"
"That's right, with those stalky, puff-headed flowers." He gave her a gentle smile. "Do you like it?"
"I love it."
"I chose amethyst, since you said it's your favorite stone. I hope I remembered right?"
"You did. It's so lovely. Thank you. I'll wear it each and every day," she promised. "Your heart tucked against my own."
A peculiar shadow flickered momentarily across his eyes before he reached for the necklace. "Here, let me help you put it on."
"Yes. Please," she said, relieved he'd offered. Her hands were trembling with so much emotion that she doubted she could have managed the task on her own.
Turning slightly, she angled herself so he could place the chain around her neck and fasten the clasp. The slight weight of the gold and stones grew instantly warm against her skin. "There. How does it look?" she asked as she moved to face him again.
"Beautiful," he said.
But when she glanced up, she realized he wasn't looking at the pendant. Instead, he was looking at her. "
― Tracy Anne Warren , Seduced by His Touch (The Byrons of Braebourne, #2)
10
" You may not be beautiful in the traditional sense, but that doesn't mean you aren't lovely all the same. Uniquely lovely, with an inner radiance that far transcends what passes for pretty these days. Take your eyes, for example."
"My eyes?"
"Hmmm. Have you ever noticed how they change color with your moods?"
She shook her head.
"Well, they do. When you're happy, they're a pure pristine blue, like twin brushstrokes of sky. And when you're displeased or lost in serious thought, they shift to grey. Silvery, sensual grey, the sort that ripples like dawn mist over a lake. I can think of no other woman with eyes like yours. Magnificent, soul-deep eyes in which a man could drown if he weren't careful. "
― Tracy Anne Warren , Seduced by His Touch (The Byrons of Braebourne, #2)
11
" That's when she saw his gaze drift downward, alighting on the heart-shaped pendant clasped around her neck.
"You're wearing it," he said, his words carrying a wondering tone.
Reaching up, she fingered the amethysts, then smoothed her thumb over the flat piece of porcelain in the center with its tiny painted garden. "Yes. Because I realize now that it was given in love."
"It was, even if I was too blind to know it at the time. Something else for which I must beg your forgiveness."
"It's yours." She laid her palm on his chest near his heart. "Did you really carry the pendant around with you when we were apart?"
"Constantly. It made me feel closer to you. Strange, I suppose, considering you wore it for such a brief time."
"Not so strange," she reassured. "I kept a handkerchief of yours, though I never planned to tell you that."
Leaning near, he pressed his lips to hers. "Besotted. The pair of us."
"Definitely. "
― Tracy Anne Warren , Seduced by His Touch (The Byrons of Braebourne, #2)
13
" Yours, I presume?" he said in a rich, deeply modulated voice that put her in mind of hot buttered rum on a cold winter day and the sensual luxury of lying amid warm silken sheets. Inwardly, she quivered. Her reply, whatever it might be, stuck like a stone in her throat; the incapacity only worsened when she lifted her gaze to his.
Bold and intelligent, his eyes shone like a set of imperial jewels, their shade an improbably pure blue that lay somewhere between sapphire and lapis lazuli. He was sinfully handsome, with a refined jaw, a long, straight nose and a mouth that seemed the very embodiment of temptation. His mahogany-dark hair was cut short, the severe style unable to tame the rebellious wave that lent the ends just the faintest hint of curl.
But most enticing of all was his height- his large, muscular, impressive height. She guessed he must be six feet three or four at least, his build broad and powerful enough to make even her feel small. "
― Tracy Anne Warren , Seduced by His Touch (The Byrons of Braebourne, #2)
14
" I mean that robust men such as yourself usually prefer other, more physical pursuits."
The color of his irises intensified. "Physical, hmm? And just what sort of 'physical pursuits' did you have in mind?"
Her cheeks grew warm, subtly aware that she had stumbled into dangerous territory. For some unfathomable reason, images of secluded, romantic rendezvouses and stolen kisses leapt into her head- subjects about which she was sure Jack Byron was an expert.
"Hunting and angling and riding, for instance," she said in a hushed tumble of words.
"Well, I must admit I enjoy a round of hunting and angling every now and again. As for riding..." His gaze lowered to her lips. "I'm always up for a good ride."
Her throat became too tight to swallow. 'Why,' she wondered, 'do I have the impression that he isn't talking about horses? "
― Tracy Anne Warren , Seduced by His Touch (The Byrons of Braebourne, #2)
19
" Now, if I am not mistaken, I believe your aunt is about to announce supper. Pray agree to dine with me."
"I am not sure I can, since the place cards may require otherwise."
"Then we shall simply have to switch them so they're arranged to our liking," he said, adding a naughty wink that sent tingles whirling through her system like maddened fireflies.
He stood and offered his arm.
"You wouldn't really switch them, would you?" she asked as she gained her feet.
"What do you think?"
She studied him, his azure eyes unreadable. "I think," she said, "that you are the wickedest man I've ever met."
He choked out a laugh, then leaned over so that his lips were a mere inch from her ear. "You had best take care to avoid me, then, else I cease being a gentleman and decide to lead you astray. "
― Tracy Anne Warren , Seduced by His Touch (The Byrons of Braebourne, #2)
20
" She was just passing through when a long male arm emerged seemingly from out of nowhere, coiling like steel around her waist.
She squealed, the sound reverberating in the air, as she twisted for a moment in Lord Jack's grasp.
"Got you!" he exclaimed, triumph plain in his voice.
"Oh, you scared me!" she said, breathless as she met his gaze. "You're as silent as a breeze."
"And you are as lithe as a gazelle, slipping from row to row as though you were made of fog. For a few moments, I thought I'd lost track of you."
"This is a tricky maze. The center is nearby, though. Shall we both dash to find it?"
A gleam came into his eyes, along with an expression she'd never seen him wear before. He shook his head, his gaze roaming over her face before lowering to her lips.
"No," he murmured in a tone as rough as gravel. "I have what I came to find."
She trembled, abruptly aware that he was still holding her against him. Her heart leapt when he reached up and began untying the bow that anchored her bonnet in place.
"What are you doing, my lord?"
He smiled. "Claiming a forfeit. I caught you. I believe I deserve a reward."
"B-but the game isn't finished."
"You're right about that," he mused aloud, lifting her hat from her head. "The game has only just begun. "
― Tracy Anne Warren , Seduced by His Touch (The Byrons of Braebourne, #2)
