You could cut...all that — Mel Bossa, Linhart's Beautiful Beast
You could cut...all that — Mel Bossa, Linhart's Beautiful Beast
You could cut...all that — Mel Bossa, Linhart's Beautiful Beast
You could cut...all that — Mel Bossa, Linhart's Beautiful Beast
You could cut...all that — Mel Bossa, Linhart's Beautiful Beast
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You could cut...all that

— Mel Bossa, Linhart's Beautiful Beast
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More “Historical romance” Quotes

Would you like to see where I will build your house, m’lady?” She grinned. “You mean our house?” He mirrored her smile. — Amy Jarecki, The Fearless Highlander
Our glass train, on fragile tracksBeneath bombs that fall like the floodTo wash away the shards—But all this sorrow will — Danny M. Cohen, Train
Perhaps... Perhaps he could make her happy. Not with the Granville money or his social cachet, but just by being the man — Tessa Dare, Do You Want to Start a Scandal
You should not have kissed me," she replied breathlessly."I do a lot of things I shouldn't. It does not mean I won't do — Amy Sandas, Luck Is No Lady
Her beloved lunatic needed her–whether he knew it or not. Whatever it took, she was not leaving without him. — Gaelen Foley, My Ruthless Prince
... but we’ll be back for dinner … especially if you’re having soup de jour!”“Now, Troy! You know very well that soup de — Kellyn Roth, The Lady of the Vineyard
Yes, and you did it spectacularly. They were the best non words ever not spoken. — Robert Thier, In the Eye of the Storm
Helen likes Brussels sprouts. How can anyone trust her opinion? — Lisa Kleypas, Marrying Winterborne
Love was like a stock, Lizzie realized. You gambled on its paying off in the long run—but it could just as easily cost y — Joanna Shupe, Magnate
He kissed her temple. "Would you read to me?" "You wouldn't grow bored?" "Not if you were reading, my love." Helen slipp — Amy Jarecki, Highland Knight of Rapture
I love stepping back in time — Frances McCarthy, The Colonel's Secret Rendezvous
Strange how a tiny hand could make the weight of his new responsibilities feel like a boulder on his chest. — Margaret Mallory, Captured by a Laird