26
" That earned him a chilling glance. “Do you want her?” Devon asked brusquely. West was baffled by the question, which seemed to have come from nowhere. “Want her? In the biblical sense? Of course not, she’s a widow. Theo’s widow. How could anyone…” His voice faded as he saw that Devon had resumed pacing, his expression murderous. Thunderstruck, West realized what the most likely reason was for all the free-floating hostility and high-riding tension between Devon and Kathleen. He closed his eyes briefly. This was bad. Bad for everyone, bad for the future, just bloody awful compounding badness in all directions. He decided to test his theory in the hope that he was mistaken. “Although,” West continued, “she is a little beauty, isn’t she? One could find all kinds of entertaining uses for that sweet mouth. I wouldn’t mind catching her in a dark corner and having some fun. She might resist at first, but soon I’d have her writhing like a cat —” Devon lunged at him in a blur of motion, seizing West by the lapels “Touch her and I’ll kill you,” he snarled. "
― Lisa Kleypas , Cold-Hearted Rake (The Ravenels, #1)
29
" Weak sunlight slanted across the table, flecked with glimmering, floating dust motes, some of them swirling around the light blue petals. Confusion spread through her as she saw the inflorescence of glowing blooms. The broad ovoid leaves were clan and glossy, and the roots anchored among the crushed clay pottery shards had been carefully trimmed and kept damped.
The Blue Vanda hadn't sickened in Winterborne's care... it had thrived.
Helen leaned over the orchid, touching the beautiful arc of its stem with a single fingertip. Shaking her head in wonder, she felt a tickle at the edge of her chin, and didn't realize it was a tear until she saw it drop onto one of the Vanda's leaves.
"Oh, Mr. Winterborne," she whispered, and reached up to wipe at her wet cheeks. "Rhys. There's been a mistake. "
― Lisa Kleypas , Cold-Hearted Rake (The Ravenels, #1)
31
" Before he could explain further, however, Rhys happened to catch sight of a slim, dark shape walking past the doorway. It was only a fleeting glimpse... but it was enough to send a jolt of awareness through him.
"You," he said in a voice that carried out into the hallway. "Whoever just passed by the door. Come here."
In the riveting silence, a young woman appeared at the threshold. Her features were delicately angular, her silver blue eyes round and wide-set. As she stood at the edge of the lamplight, her fair skin and pale blond hair seemed to hold their own radiance, an effect he'd seen in paintings of Old Testament angels.
"There's a grain about it," Rhys's father had always said when he'd wanted to describe something fine and polished and perfect, something of the highest quality. Oh, there was a grain about this woman. She was only medium height, but her extreme slenderness gave her the illusion of being taller. Her breasts were high and gently rounded beneath the high-necked dress, and for a pleasurable, disorienting moment Rhys remembered resting his head there as she had given him sips of orchid tea.
"Say something," he commanded gruffly.
The shy glow of her smile gilded the air. "I'm glad to see you in better health, Mr. Winterborne."
Helen's voice.
She was more beautiful than starlight, and just as unattainable. As he stared at her, Rhys was bitterly reminded of the upper-class ladies who had looked at him with contempt when he was a shop boy, holding their skirts back if he passed near them on the street, the way they would seek to avoid a filthy stray dog.
"Is there something I can do for you?" she asked.
Rhys shook his head, still unable to take his gaze from her. "I only wanted a face to go with the voice. "
― Lisa Kleypas , Cold-Hearted Rake (The Ravenels, #1)
33
" Forgive me for interrupting your task," Devon said to Helen after they were introduced.
A hesitant smile emerged. "Not at all, my lord. I'm merely observing the orchids to make certain there is nothing they lack."
"How can you tell what they lack?" Devon asked.
"I see the color of their leaves, or the condition of the petals. I look for signs of aphids or thrips, and I try to remember which varieties prefer moist soil and which ones like to be drier."
"Will you show them to me?" Devon asked.
Helen nodded and led him along the rows, pointing out particular specimens. "This was all my mother's collection. One of her favorites was Peristeria elata." She showed him a plant with marble-white blossom. "The central part of the flower resembles a tiny dove, you see? And this one is Dendrobium aemulum. It's called a feather orchid because of the petals." With a flash of shy mischief, Helen glanced back at Kathleen and remarked, "My sister-in-law isn't fond of orchids."
"I despise them," Kathleen said, wrinkling her nose. "Stingy, demanding flowers that take forever to bloom. And some of them smell like old boots or rancid meat."
"Those aren't my favorite," Helen admitted. "But I hope to love them someday. Sometimes one must love something before it becomes lovable. "
― Lisa Kleypas , Cold-Hearted Rake (The Ravenels, #1)
34
" The word comes from Greek mythology. Orchis was the son of a satyr and a nymph. During a feast to celebrate Bacchus, Orchis drank too much wine and tried to force his attentions on a priestess. Bacchus was very displeased, and reacted by having Orchis torn to pieces. The pieces were scattered far and wide, and wherever one landed, an orchid grew." Pausing, she leaned away for a few seconds, reaching for something. Something soft and delicate touched his cracked lips.... She was applying salve with a fingertip. "Most people don't know that vanilla is the fruit of an orchid vine. We keep one in a glasshouse on the estate- it's so long that it grows sideways on the wall. When one of the flowers is full grown, it opens in the morning, and if it isn't pollinated, it closes in the evening, never to open again. The white blossoms, and the vanilla pods within them, have the sweetest scent in the world... "
― Lisa Kleypas , Cold-Hearted Rake (The Ravenels, #1)
36
" I've lived away from the world for so much in my life, Mr. Winterborne, that I sometimes wonder who I am, or if I belong anywhere."
Winterborne studied her. "Trenear plans to take you and your sisters to London when you've finished mourning."
Helen nodded. "I haven't been to town since I was a child. I remember it as a very large and exciting place." She paused, vaguely surprised that she was confiding in him. "Now I think I might find it... intimidating."
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "What happens when you're intimidated? Run to the nearest corner and hide, do you?"
"I should say not," she said primly, wondering if she were being teased. "I do what has to be done, no matter what the situation."
Winterborne's smile widened until she saw the flash of white teeth against that deep bronze complexion. "I suppose I know that better than most," he said softly.
Understanding that he was referring to how she had helped him through the fever... and remembering how she had held that black head in the crook of her arm, and bathed his face and neck... Helen felt a blush start. Not the ordinary kind of blush that faded soon after it started. This one kept heating and heating, spreading all through her until she was so uncomfortable that she could scarcely breathe. She made the mistake of glancing into his simmering coffee-black eyes, and she felt positively immolated. "
― Lisa Kleypas , Cold-Hearted Rake (The Ravenels, #1)
37
" What is your opinion of Lady Helen?" he asked as Quincy arranged the meal on the table in front of him.
"She is the jewel of the Ravenels," Quincy said. "A more kind-hearted girl you'll ever meet. Sadly, she's always been overlooked. Her older brother received the lion's share of her parents' interest, and what little was left went to the twins."
Rhys had met the twins a few days earlier, both of them bright-eyed and amusing, asking a score of questions about his department store. He had liked the girls well enough, but neither of them had captured his interest. They were nothing close to Helen, whose reserve was mysterious and alluring. She was like a mother-of-pearl shell that appeared to be one color, but from different angles revealed delicate shimmers of lavender, pink, blue, green. A beautiful exterior that revealed little of its true nature. "
― Lisa Kleypas , Cold-Hearted Rake (The Ravenels, #1)
