Your breasts are alabaster orbs.' "What?" Rufus objected. "That's stupid. I'm not saying that." "Do you have some better suggestion?" "Why can't you just say she's got a fair set of titties?

I’ll be damned,” he muttered.“Most likely.” She folded the blanket with efficient snaps. “And I may be joining you, after what we just did.

Mr. Sand, do you think it's possible to fall in love in the space of a single day?" He smiled. "I wouldn't know. I only fall in love at night. Never lasts beyond breakfast, though.

After spending all of her girlhood fervently wishing she could run away from home— she’d actually done it.

Forgive me, Your Grace. Are you suggesting a woman is some sort of … piece of fruit to you? One squeeze, and you know if she’s ripe?

What on earth are you wearing? Did you take orders in a convent since we spoke last? Little Sisters of the Drab and Homely.

The Blushing Pansy," his cousin read aloud, in a tone of abject horror. "Tea shop and confectionery." Bram swore. This was going to be ugly.