Marguerite Kaye Quotes

He picked up the hairbrush and handed it to her. What were you planning to do with that, comb me to death?

~ Marguerite Kaye

So you wish me to forget that you are a sheikh and a prince and a crown prince and soon to be King? That is a lot to forget.

~ Marguerite Kaye

She was riding a camel, in the most beautiful desert, in the kingdom belonging to this most beautiful man. A man who thought she had the most delightful rear. A man who wanted to kiss her every bit as much as she wanted to kiss him. I know that I will regret saying this, but at this moment in time, I think I could manage anything.

~ Marguerite Kaye

There is nothing more effective in igniting a man's desire than a woman's passion. To see the fire in your eyes, to feel the fire in your blood as you touch me, it sets me on fire too. Do you imagine I would prefer to kiss a woman who responds only with -- with compliance? No, I would not. No red-blooded man would. Never apologize for passion. Restraint, Julia, has no place in lovemaking.

~ Marguerite Kaye

Was your magic carpet out of commission?

~ Marguerite Kaye

I thought I had to be alone to be free. But I am only ever truly myself when I am with you, Azhar. I know, that is such an -- an extravagant thing to say, but it is true. I have to realize that freedom means having the ability to choose. To choose to share your life, to choose to love unconditionally. The two are inseparable. There is no freedom without love and there is no love without freedom.

~ Marguerite Kaye

A man who is born to be hanged can never be drowned.

~ Marguerite Kaye

Do you miss wearing your kilt? she asked. In London, it caused more bother than it was worth. Ladies either found it indecent or intriguing. A fair few found it to be both. I was never quite sure whether it was indecently intriguing or intriguingly indecent!

~ Marguerite Kaye

Those were the kind of kisses to keep a man awake at night, wanting more. Now, shall we drink this excellent wine and get on with the rest of the tour?

~ Marguerite Kaye

The Jock Upstart, is what Wellington calls - called me. A man who does not know his allotted place in the scheme of things.

~ Marguerite Kaye

I must confess, your gown does not do justice as your trousers did to your delightful derriere. Colour flamed in her face. She ought to be outraged, but Isabella was briefly, shockingly inclined to laugh. A gentleman does not remark on a lady's derriere. I seem to recall telling you when last we met that I am not a gentleman, senorita. And now I come to think of it, I recall also that you took umbrage at being called a lady.

~ Marguerite Kaye

It was because he wanted to kiss her so much that he stopped himself, bent over her hand, clicking his heels together, then let her go. Adios, Isabella. Good luck. Please be careful. Stay safe. Goodbye, Finlay. May God protect you and keep you from harm.

~ Marguerite Kaye

What the hell do you think you are doing, creeping about in the night in woman's clothing? I could just as easily have killed you? The sheer audacity of her remark rendered him speechless for a moment, and then Finlay laughed. This, senorita, is a kilt, not a skirt, and you did not for a moment come close to killing me, though I don't doubt that you'd have tried if I'd given you half a chance.

~ Marguerite Kaye

There were times when he felt as if he were being literally torn in two. Times when he raged at the injustice of what was happening to him, times when he was overwhelmed with guilt. There was no right and wrong anymore, which had been one of clear-cut lines for so long, was now so blurred that he was careening around like a compass struggling to find true north.

~ Marguerite Kaye

His eyes darkened. His hands slid up to her shoulders. She leaned into him as he pulled her towards him. It started so gently. Soft. Delicate. Celeste leant closer. The kiss deepened. she could feel the damp of his shirt and the heat of his skin beneath it. A drop of perspiration trickled down between her breasts, and she felt a sharp twist of pure desire.

~ Marguerite Kaye

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to remember the taste of her and the feel of her and the smell of her. She was quite lovely. She was altogether ravishing. She would set any man's blood on fire. He shouldn't have kissed her.

~ Marguerite Kaye

...People - the ones who are left behind - desire answers. Even when we are advised from beyond the grave not to pursue them.

~ Marguerite Kaye

...You, you look -- bien -- exactly what you were, a high-ranking British officer, used to unwavering obedience and with the air of a Greek god, gazing down on us mere mortals.

~ Marguerite Kaye

The soldier in the portrait had been a respected and admired officer...The man he had become was fighting a different battle now. He had his demons, just as she had her ghosts.

~ Marguerite Kaye

You! That is what is behind this. Ever since you -- As if I didn't have enough on my mind without having to lie awake thinking of you and your damned kisses and your damned questions.

~ Marguerite Kaye

Maman’s life was an unfinished book. Celeste had to discover the ending, and then she could close the cover for ever.

~ Marguerite Kaye

But the pain, the tearing blackness, the white heat of his uncontrollable fury, the terror that made him run from himself, the sweats and the shakes, and the dull ache in his head, they were all too real. ~~~~She kissed him to stop the words babbling out. She was in love. “Jack,” she said, because it was all she could trust herself to say. “Jack.” She loved him. She kissed his eyelids. She loved him.

~ Marguerite Kaye

Celeste grabbed his arm. “You see, you are running away from the truth. Why won’t you talk about it?”“Take your hands off me. Now.”She had gone too far. She knew it would be insane to push him further, but she knew with certainty that was exactly what she was going to do. Celeste tilted her head and met his stormy eyes. “No.

~ Marguerite Kaye

I supposed you've already kissed him? Don't deny it, that guilty look is a complete giveaway. Did you like it? Felicity! Well? Yes. Ainsley laughed. Yes, I did. Was it a good kiss? The kind of kiss to give you confidence that your Mr. Drummond would know what he was doing? The kind of kiss that made you want him to do more than kiss you?

~ Marguerite Kaye

My father prided himself on maintaining traditions that were hundreds of years old. You'll feel as if you've stepped back into the eighteenth century. Her brows lifted in surprise. He could see the wheels turning in her clever brain, but she chose merely to nod, and perversely, though he knew he would not like it, he wanted to know what she was thinking. Go on. Say it. It is nothing. Only - you are very much a man of the nineteenth century. You mean you're not surprised I left such a backward place. Such a backward place must be crying out for a man like you. Ainsley pushed her windswept hair out of her eyes.

~ Marguerite Kaye

Kissing gave a man all sorts of immoral ideas. Such ideas were, in Madame Hera's world, the province only of men. That Ainsley herself had had ideas - her mind boggled, trying to imagine what Madame would say to that. In fact, those very ideas cropped up in several of the letters Felicity had forwarded to her, variously referred to as 'unnatural desires,' 'longing,' 'carnal stirrings,' fever of the blood,' 'indecent thoughts' and even, memorably, 'an irrepressible need to scratch an itch.

~ Marguerite Kaye