But there, in that remarkable room, surrounded by a laughing, rollicking, unseeing collection of London's brightest and wickedest, Pippa's knowledge of anatomy expanded. It seemed there was such a thing as a broken heart.
Sarah MacLeanIn fiction, as in real life, love might inspire acts that are at best foolish and at worst life-threatening, but in the best romances, love is the final, secret ingredient that turns mere mortals into heroes and heroines.
Sarah MacLeanShe tilted her head, considering the sensation. "It is strange." He gave a hiss of laughter at the words. "It only gets stranger, darling. But we shall try for something more.
Sarah MacLeanShe can't force us to go to the ball. We're grown men, for Lord's sake!" Will cocked an eyebrow at his younger brother. "You don't think she can force us? We are speaking of the same mother, correct? Small frame, enormous will?
Sarah MacLeanShe took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling for a long moment. A raindrop moved slowly down her neck; he watched as it turned down the slope of her breast to disappear inside the collar of her shirt. He was seriously contemplating becoming jealous of a droplet of water. Yorkshire was obviously damaging to his sanity.
Sarah MacLeanYou must be mistaken," Isabel said, unconcerned by the insult that the words carried. "I assure you i am not. Voluptas is nearly always portrayed wrapped in roses. If that were not enough, her faces confirms her identity." "You cannot tell a goddess from a face carved in marble," she scoffed. "You can tell Voluptas by her face." "I've never even heard of this goddess, and you know what she looks like?" "She is the goddess of sensual pleasure." Isabel's mouth fell open at the words. She could not think of a single thing to say in response. "Oh
Sarah MacLean