97 Quotes by Kerrigan Byrne

How fortunate for you that the water obscures so much." Blackwell shifted in his chair, his knees falling wider and his nostrils flaring."Would Dougan Mackenzie forgive this coercion?" she challenged, doing her best to ignore the stirrings of her own body. "If you owe him as much as you claim, would he not wish you to spare my modesty?"The spark of heat in his eyes died for a moment, before flaring brighter than ever. "When we meet in hell, I'll ask his forgiveness.

Oh, Dougan, why send me this dark horse?' Farah inwardly railed. 'Why ask the devil in the flesh to find and protect me?'Young Dougan couldn't have known how the man in front of her would affect her. How dangerous he truly was, because of the reckless impulses pouring through her veins and settling in the most secret of places.He couldn't have known how much Dorian Blackwell secretly thrilled her. How his eyes on her made her feel helpless and powerful at the same time.

Still canna resist the draw of the devil."A tremor sliced through Farah at the old woman's words. Dougan had called himself a demon the first time they'd met. If that sweet boy had been a demon, then Dorian Blackwell certainly was the devil.And Farah was, indeed, helpless to resist his dark allure.

As much as I approve of your change in tactics, Morley, dangling this tasty piece in front of me still won't have the desired effect." Blackwell's voice reached out to her like the first unwelcome tendrils of frost in winter. Deep, smooth, caustic, and bitter cold.

And you consider yourself as what, some sort of Count of Monte Cristo?"He gave a nonchalant shrug. "Not particularly, though the book is a favorite of mine."Farah frowned. "I thought you said you couldn't read."That Dorian Blackwell could laugh at a time like this astounded her. But he did. The sound so devoid of true mirth, it caused goose pimples to rise on her skin and her nipples to tighten painfully. It was a dark sound, like the rest of him, and it washed over her with chilling totality.

Love is quite like reading, I expect. Once you know how, you can't ever imagine not doing it.

Farah gaped, unable to fathom his brutality. She shouldn't be shocked, she'd been around the worst sort of criminals for more years than she'd care to admit. But, somehow, it astounded her that one so cultured, so relaxed and wealthy and tailored, could issue such a threat with a civil tongue. The criminals of her acquaintance were dirty and foul with explosive tempers and crude language. Blackwell threatened violence as though discussing the price of Irish potatoes.

To distract himself from the pain, he focused his blurring vision on the droplets of moisture collecting like diamonds in her abundant curls. Instead of making her hair heavy and straight, the rain seemed to coil the ringlets tighter and anoint the silvery strands with a darker gloss of spun gold.

She's efficient and well liked, but keeps to herself. Quiet. Which is a rare and commendable female trait, in my experience. She works harder than the other two clerks, but gets paid less.