Cam And Amelia Quotes

“You must have traveled all night,” she heard herself say.
“I had to come back early.” She felt his lips brush her tumbled hair. “I left some things unfinished. But I had a feeling you might need me. Tell me what’s happened, sweetheart.”
Amelia opened her mouth to answer, but to her mortification, the only sound she could make was a sort of miserable croak. Her self-control shattered. She shook her head and choked on more sobs, and the more she tried to stop them, the worse they became.
Cam gripped her firmly, deeply, into his embrace. The appalling storm of tears didn’t seem to bother him at all. He took one of Amelia’s hands and flattened it against his heart, until she could feel the strong, steady beat. In a world that was disintegrating around her, he was solid and real. “It’s all right,” she heard him murmur. “I’m here.”
Alarmed by her own lack of self-discipline, Amelia made a wobbly attempt to stand on her own, but he only hugged her more closely. “No, don’t pull away. I’ve got you.” He cuddled her shaking form against his chest. Noticing Poppy’s awkward retreat, Cam sent her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, little sister.”
“Amelia hardly ever cries,” Poppy said.
“She’s fine.” Cam ran his hand along Amelia’s spine in soothing strokes. “She just needs…”
As he paused, Poppy said, “A shoulder to lean on.”
“Yes.” He drew Amelia to the stairs, and gestured for Poppy to sit beside them.
Cradling Amelia on his lap, Cam found a handkerchief in his pocket and wiped her eyes and nose. When it became apparent that no sense could be made from her jumbled words, he hushed her gently and held her against his large, warm body while she sobbed and hid her face. Overwhelmed with relief, she let him rock her as if she were a child.
As Amelia hiccupped and quieted in his arms, Cam asked a few questions of Poppy, who told him about Merripen’s condition and Leo’s disappearance, and even about the missing silverware.
Finally getting control of herself, Amelia cleared her aching throat. She lifted her head from Cam’s shoulder and blinked.
“Better?” he asked, holding the handkerchief up to her nose.
Amelia nodded and blew obediently. “I’m sorry,” she said in a muffled voice. “I shouldn’t have turned into a watering pot. I’m finished now.”
Cam seemed to look right inside her. His voice was very soft. “You don’t have to be sorry. You don’t have to be finished, either.”
She realized that no matter what she did or said, no matter how long she wanted to cry, he would accept it. And he would comfort her.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Amelia groped for the ring and began tugging and twisting it. “It’s stuck again.” She sounded disgruntled.
Cam pinned her wrist and bent his head, taking her finger into his mouth. She gasped as his tongue swirled around the base, leaving it wet. Gently, he used his teeth to draw the gold band off. Taking the ring from between his lips, he slid it back onto his own finger. Her hand, now bare, flexed as if bereft, and she looked at him uncertainly.
“You’ll get used to wearing it.” Cam smoothed his hand along the plane of her midriff and stomach. “We’ll try it on you a few minutes at a time. Like breaking a horse to harness.” He grinned at her expression.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Cam paused, staring down at her with dilated eyes, the irises bright gold rims around circles of fathomless midnight. “Amelia, love…” His kiss tasted of salt and intimacy. “Can you take a little more of me?”
She fought to think above the confusion of pleasure, and shook her head jerkily.
The corners of his lips deepened with a smile. He whispered, “I think you can.”
His hands played over her, solicitous fingertips sliding to the place they were joined. He pressed inside her, a low rhythmic movement, and his fingers were astonishingly gentle, almost delicate, as they stroked in time to the patient thrusts. Gasping, she arched to take him deeper, and deeper still.
Every time he pushed, his body rubbed hers in exactly the right way. She began to lift eagerly, anticipating each invasion, panting for it, sensation building on sensation until it culminated in a blinding swell of delight … and another … another … she felt him begin to withdraw and she moaned and twined her legs around his hips.
“Amelia,” he gasped, “no, let me … I’ve got to…” Shuddering, he spent helplessly inside her, while her body gripped and stroked the hard length of him.
Still locked together, Cam rolled Amelia to her side. He muttered something in Romany. Although she didn’t understand a word, it sounded highly complimentary. Limp with pleasure and exhaustion, Amelia rested her head on the solid curve of his biceps, her breath catching as she felt the occasional twitch and pulse of him in the depths of her body.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Cam reached for her left hand. Taking the signet ring between his fingers, he drew it off easily and gave it to her. “Here. Although I’d rather you left it on.”
Amelia’s mouth fell open. She examined her hand, then the ring, and hesitantly pushed it back on the same finger. It slid over her knuckle and back again with ease. “How did you do that?”
“I helped you to relax.” He ran a coaxing hand along her spine. “Put it back on, Amelia.”
“I can’t. That would mean I’ve accepted your proposal, and I haven’t.”
Stretching like a cat, Cam rolled her flat again, his weight partially supported on his elbows. Amelia drew in a quick breath as she felt him still firm within her. “You can’t lie with me twice and then refuse to marry me.” Cam lowered his head to kiss her ear. “I’ll be ruined.” He worked his way to the soft place behind her earlobe. “And I’ll feel so cheap.”
Despite the seriousness of the matter, Amelia had to bite back a smile. “I’m doing you a great favor by refusing you. You’ll thank me for it someday.”
“I’ll thank you right now if you’ll put the damned ring back on.”
She shook her head.
Cam pushed a bit farther inside her, making her gasp. “What about my personal endowments? Who’s going to take care of them?”
“You can take care of them”— she squirmed to the side to set the ring on the bedside table—“ all by yourself.”
Cam moved with her obligingly. “It’s much more satisfying when you’re involved.”
As he reached to retrieve the ring, his body shifted higher in hers. She tensed in surprise. He felt harder inside her, thicker, his desire gaining new momentum. “Cam,” she protested, glancing at the closed door. She grabbed for his wrist, trying to keep his hand away from the ring. He grappled with her playfully, turning until they had completed a full revolution across the mattress and she was under him again.
He was rampantly aroused now, teasing her with slow lunges. Twisting beneath him, Amelia pushed at his dark head as he began to kiss her breasts. “But … we just finished…”
Cam lifted his head. “Roma,” he said, as if by way of explanation, and settled back over her.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Cam restored her clothing slowly, his strong hands lifting her from the beech. Crushing her close, he muttered something incomprehensible against her hair. Another spell to bind her, she thought hazily, her cheek pressed to his smooth, hard chest. “You’re speaking in Romany,” she mumbled.
Cam switched to English. “Amelia, I—” He stopped, as if the right words eluded him. “I can’t stop myself from being jealous, any more than I can stop being half Roma. But I’ll try not to be overbearing. Just say you’ll be my wife.”
“Please,” Amelia whispered, her wits still scattered, “let me answer later. When I can think clearly.”
“You do too much thinking.” He kissed the top of her head. “I can’t promise you a perfect life. But I can promise that no matter what happens, I’ll give you everything I have. We’ll be together. You inside me … me inside you.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“I have a proposition for you,” she said, trying for a businesslike tone. “A very sensible one. You see—” She paused to clear her throat. “I’ve been thinking about your problem.”
“What problem?” Cam played lightly with the folds of her skirts, watching her face alertly.
“Your good-luck curse. I know how to get rid of it. You should marry into a family with very, very bad luck. A family with expensive problems. And then you won’t have to be embarrassed about having so much money, because it will flow out nearly as fast as it comes in.”
“Very sensible.” Cam took her shaking hand in his, pressed it between his warm palms. And touched his foot to her rapidly tapping one. “Hummingbird,” he whispered, “you don’t have to be nervous with me.”
Gathering her courage, Amelia blurted out, “I want your ring. I want never to take it off again. I want to be your romni forever”— she paused with a quick, abashed smile—“ whatever that is.”
“My bride. My wife.”
Amelia froze in a moment of throat-clenching delight as she felt him slide the gold ring onto her finger, easing it to the base. “When we were with Leo, tonight,” she said scratchily, “I knew exactly how he felt about losing Laura. He told me once that I couldn’t understand unless I had loved someone that way. He was right. And tonight, as I watched you with him … I knew what I would think at the very last moment of my life.”
His thumb smoothed over the tender surface of her knuckle. “Yes, love?”
“I would think,” she continued, “‘ Oh, if I could have just one more day with Cam. I would fit a lifetime into those few hours.’”
“Not necessary,” he assured her gently. “Statistically speaking, we’ll have at least ten, fifteen thousand days to spend together.”
“I don’t want to be apart from you for even one of them.”
Cam cupped her small, serious face in his hands, his thumbs skimming the trace of tears beneath her eyes. His gaze caressed her. “Are we to live in sin, love, or will you finally agree to marry me?”
“Yes. Yes. I’ll marry you. Although … I still can’t promise to obey you.”
Cam laughed quietly. “We’ll manage around that. If you’ll at least promise to love me.”
Amelia gripped his wrists, his pulse steady and strong beneath her fingertips. “Oh, I do love you, you’re—”
“I love you, too.”
“— my fate. You’re everything I—” She would have said more, if he had not pulled her head to his, kissing her with hard, thrilling pressure.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Don’t tease,” she muttered, trembling with need. “I can’t bear it.”
“Sweetheart…” His silky whisper caressed her cheek. “I’m afraid you’ll have to.”
“Wh-why?” She caught her breath as he withdrew, giving her only the tip of his shaft.
“Because there’s nothing I love more than teasing you.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“You’re not like any man I’ve ever known,” she said. “You’re not even someone I could have dreamed. You’re like someone from a fairy story written in a language I don’t even know.”
“The prince, I hope.”
“No, you’re the dragon, a beautiful wicked dragon.” Her voice turned wistful. “How could anyone have a normal everyday life with you?”
Cam took her in a safe, firm grip and lowered her to the mattress. “Maybe you’ll be a civilizing influence on me.” He bent over the slope of her breast, kissing it through the muslin veil of her gown. “Or maybe you’ll get a taste for the dragon.” He found the bud of her nipple, wet the cotton with his mouth, until the tender flesh pricked up against his tongue.
“I th-think I already have.” She sounded so perturbed that he laughed.
“Then lie still,” he whispered, “while I breathe fire on you.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“He toyed with her ear, catching the rim delicately between his teeth. “I’ll admit it wouldn’t be easy, being married to a Romany male. We’re possessive. Jealous. We prefer our wives never to touch another man. Nor would you have the right to refuse me your bed.” His lips covered hers in a molten kiss, his tongue exploring deeply. “But then,” he said, lifting his mouth, “you wouldn’t want to.” Another long, lazy kiss, and then Cam said against her mouth, “You’ll wear the look of a well-loved woman, monisha.”
Amelia was forced to hold on to him for balance. “You would leave me, eventually.”
“I swear to you, I wouldn’t. I’ve finally found my atchen tan.”
“Your what?”
“Stopping place.”
“I didn’t know Romas had stopping places.”
“Not all. Apparently I’m one of the few who do.” Shaking his head, Cam added in a disgruntled tone, “My back is sore after sleeping on the ground all night. My gadjo half has finally gotten the better of me.”
Amelia ducked her head and pressed a shaky smile against the cool smoothness of his jerkin. “This is lunacy,” she muttered.
Cam held her closer. “Marry me, Amelia. You’re what I want. You’re my fate.” One hand slid to the back of her head, gripping the braids and ribbons to keep her mouth upturned. “Say yes.” He nibbled at her lips, licked at them, opened them. He kissed her until she writhed in his arms, her pulse racing. “Say it, Amelia, and save me from ever having to spend a night with another woman. I’ll sleep indoors. I’ll get a haircut. God help me, I think I’d even carry a pocket watch if it pleased you.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“I’ve considered everything you said earlier. I’ve made a decision. But first I’d like to explain that it has nothing to do with your personal endowments, which are quite considerable. It’s just that—”
“My personal endowments?”
“Yes. Your intelligence. Your attractiveness.”
“Oh.”
Wondering why his voice sounded odd, Amelia darted a questioning glance at him. The amber eyes were bright with laughter. What had she said to amuse him? “Are you paying attention?”
“Believe me, when my personal endowments are being discussed, I always pay attention. Go on.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Would it help,” he asked gently, “to have a shoulder to cry on?”
She fought to conceal how much the question unnerved her. “Thank you, but no.” Carefully she dropped the herbs into the kettle. “Crying is a waste of time.”
“‘ To weep is to make less the depth of grief.’”
“Is that a Romany saying?”
“Shakespeare.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“He kissed her as if he could breathe her in. Fierce kisses, hard ones, teasingly articulate ones, soft enticing ones, kisses to light bonfires and fill the sky and hold the stars aloft.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“The covers slipped between them. Amelia shivered as the cool air wafted over her naked back and shoulders. “Come back to bed,” she whispered. “I need you to warm me.”
Cam stripped away his shirt, and laughed quietly as he felt her hands plucking at the buttons of his trousers. “What happened to my prudish gadji?”
“I’m afraid”— she reached into his open falls and stroked his aroused flesh—“ that continued association with you has made me shameless.”
“Good, I was hoping for that.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Amelia, if we have children … will you mind that they’re part Roma?”
“Not if you don’t mind that they’re part Hathaway.”
He made a sound of amusement and finished undressing. “And I thought life on the road would be a challenge. You know, it would terrify a lesser man, trying to manage your family.”
“You’re right. I can’t imagine why you’re willing to take us on.”
He gave her naked body a frankly lascivious glance as he joined her beneath the covers. “Believe me, the compensations are well worth it.”
“What about your freedom?” Amelia asked, snuggling close as he lay beside her. “Are you sorry to have lost it?”
“No, love.” Cam reached to turn down the lamp, enfolding them in velvet darkness. “I’ve finally found it. Right here, with you.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“I found it when I was getting the crushed bees for Merripen’s poultice. I brought it back for you.” He looked vaguely apologetic. “I meant to tell you about it earlier, but it slipped my mind.”
Amelia stifled a laugh. The average man would hardly forget something like a cache box possibly containing treasure … but to Cam, it probably had little more significance than a box of hazelnuts. “Only you,” she said, “could go looking for bee venom and find hidden treasure.” Lifting the box, she shook it gently, feeling the movement of weighty objects within. “Blast, it’s locked.” She reached in the wild disarray of her coiffure. Finding a hairpin, she handed it to him.
“Why do you assume I can pick a lock?” he asked, a sly flicker in his eyes.
“I have complete faith in your criminal abilities,” she said. “Open it, please.”
Obligingly he bent the pin and inserted it into the ancient lock.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Cam was sitting on the bed, still clothed. His head was lowered, hands braced on his knees in the posture of a man who was deep in thought. He glanced up as she came into the room and closed the door.
“What’s the matter, love?”
“I…” Amelia approached him hesitantly. “I’m afraid you won’t let me have what I want.”
His slow smile robbed her of breath. “I have yet to refuse you anything. I’m not likely to start now.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Any man,” she muttered, “who wanted to marry into the Hathaway family after this should be shut away in an institution.”
“Marriage is an institution,” he said reasonably, retrieving her gown from the floor.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Since meeting with Mr. Pym was the responsibility of the current Lord Ramsay, Cam bullied Leo into attending the meeting with him. Not because Leo would have anything sensible to contribute, but merely as a symbolic gesture.
“Besides,” Cam had told Amelia grimly, “if I have to be bored witless talking about gadjo affairs, there’s no reason Leo should be spared.” He had swept a proprietary glance over her, taking in the green wool walking dress and fur-trimmed black cloak. “I shouldn’t let you go with Dashiell and Barksby,” he said. “You’ll be the only woman there. I don’t like it.”
“Oh, it’s all very circumspect. They’re both gentlemen, and I’m—”
“Spoken for,” he had said curtly. “By me.”
Her heart beat a little faster. “Yes, I know,” she admitted without looking at him.
The small concession seemed to please him. He pushed the door closed with his foot, and reached beneath her cloak with importunate hands. He kissed her as if he could breathe her in. Fierce kisses, hard ones, teasingly articulate ones, soft enticing ones, kisses to light bonfires and fill the sky and hold the stars aloft.
When Cam finally relented and eased her away from the door to open it, he said one word in her scarlet ear before she fled. The word went down to the marrow of her bones.
“Tonight.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Cam leaned over her, bracing his forearms on either side of her, kissing her sulky mouth. “Just for tonight,” he whispered. “Wear my ring, Amelia, and let me pleasure you.” He kissed her throat, his hips shunting gently against her. She gasped at the feel of him, hard and swollen behind the black silk. His mouth traveled slowly up to her ear. “I’ll enter you, fill you, and then I’ll hold you still and quiet in my arms. I won’t move. I won’t let you move, either. I’ll wait until I feel you throbbing around me … I’ll follow that rhythm deep in your body, that sweet pulse … I won’t stop until you weep and shiver and cry out for more. And I’ll give it to you, as long and hard as you want. Take my ring, love.” His mouth descended to hers in a smoldering kiss. “Take me.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“The hearth in his room had been replenished, the blaze shedding warmth and light. Cam’s eyes narrowed in curiosity as he saw a small shape beneath the covers.
Amelia’s head lifted from the pillow. “I’m cold,” she said, as if that were a perfectly reasonable explanation for her presence.
“My bed is no warmer than yours.” Cam approached her slowly, trying not to feel like a predator, trying to ignore the heat that had ignited in his blood. His body had gone hard beneath the black silk, all his muscles tightening in anticipation. He knew what she wanted from him … and he would be more than happy to provide it.
“It would be warmer if you were in it,” she said.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Cam … would you do something for me?”
“Anything.”
“Could you find some of that plant Merripen gave to Win and Leo for the scarlet fever?”
He drew back and looked at her. “Deadly nightshade? That wouldn’t work for this, sweetheart.”
“But it’s a fever.”
“Caused by a septic wound. You have to treat the source of the fever.” His hand went to the back of her neck, soothing the tautly strung muscles. He stared at a distant point on the floor, appearing to think something over. His tangled lashes made shadows over his hazel eyes. “Let’s go have a look at him.”
“Do you think you could help him?” Poppy asked, springing to her feet.
“Either that, or my efforts will finish him off quickly. Which, at this point, he may not mind.” Lifting Amelia from his lap, Cam set her carefully on her feet, and they proceeded up the stairs. His hand remained at the small of her back, a light but steady support she desperately needed.
As they approached Merripen’s room, it occurred to Amelia that Win might still be inside. “Wait,” she said, hastening forward. “Let me go first.”
Cam stayed beside the door.
Entering the room with caution, Amelia saw that Merripen was alone in the bed. She opened the door wider and gestured for Cam and Poppy to enter.
Becoming aware of intruders in the room, Merripen lurched to his side and squinted at them. As soon as he caught sight of Cam, his face contracted in a surly grimace.
“Bugger off,” he croaked.
Cam smiled pleasantly. “Were you this charming with the doctor? I’ll bet he was falling all over himself to help you.”
“Get away from me.”
“This may surprise you,” Cam said, “but there’s a long list of things I’d prefer to look at rather than your rotting carcass. For your family’s sake, however, I’m willing. Turn over.”
Merripen eased his front to the mattress and said something in Romany that sounded extremely foul.
“You, too,” Cam said equably.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“A footman knocked at the door, the sound echoing through the entrance hall.
The sisters looked at each other uneasily. “We can’t answer it,” Amelia said. “We’re in our nightclothes.”
A maid came into the entrance hall. Setting down a pail of coal, she wiped her hands on her apron and hastened to the door. Unlocking the massive portal, she tugged it open and bobbed a curtsy.
“Come away,” Amelia muttered, urging Poppy back to the stairs with her. But as she glanced back over her shoulder to see who had come, the sight of a man’s tall, dark form struck sparks inside her. She stopped with her foot on the first step, staring and staring, until a pair of amber eyes looked in her direction.
Cam.
He looked disheveled and disreputable, like an outlaw on the run. A smile came to his lips, while he stared at her intently. “It seems I can’t stay away from you,” he said.
She rushed to him without thinking, almost stumbling in her haste. “Cam—”
He caught her up with a low laugh.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“He settled a hand over her stomach, rubbing in soothing circles. “Lie easy, sweetheart.”
“I c-can’t. Oh, do hurry!”
Cam laughed softly, his parted lips dragging across her sensitive flesh. He traced her with his tongue, made her wet, and blew against the dampened curls. “It’s better for you if I don’t hurry.”
“No it’s not.”
“Much you know about it. This is only your second time.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“I have to see you in daylight.” His mouth chased lightly, hungrily over her throat and shoulder. “Monisha, you are the most beautiful woman, the most…” His hands moved with increasing impatience, pulling hard at her clothes until a few stitches popped.
“Don’t, this dress doesn’t belong to me,” Amelia said anxiously, fumbling to unfasten the borrowed garments herself rather than have them torn. She froze at the sound of footsteps coming along the hallway, passing the closed door without stopping. Most likely it was a servant. But what if someone had seen her entering Cam’s room?… What if someone were searching for her at this very moment? “Cam, please, not now.”
“I’ll be gentle.” He lifted her from the circle of discarded clothes. “I know it’s soon after your first time.”
She shook her head as he laid her on the bed. Clenching the fabric of her chemise with both hands to keep it in place, she whispered, “No, it’s not that. Someone will find out. Someone will hear. Someone will—”
“Let go, hummingbird, so I can take this off you.” There was a flick of devil’s fire in his eyes as he said mildly, “Let go, or I’ll rip it.”
“Cam, don’t—”
She was interrupted by the sound of rending linen. He had torn it completely down the front, the fragile material drooping on either side of her.
“You’ve ruined it,” she said in disbelief. “How am I to explain this to the maid? And how am I to put my corset back on?”
Cam didn’t look at all apologetic as he pulled the remnants of the chemise away from her body. “Take off your drawers. Or I’ll have to rip those, too.”
“Oh, God.” Seeing no way to stop him, Amelia pulled the drawers down over her hips. “Lock the door,” she whispered with a scarlet face. “Please, please lock it.”
A quick smile passed over Cam’s mouth. He left the bed and went to the door, stripping off his jerkin and shirt along the way. After turning the key in the lock, he took his time about returning to the bed, seeming to enjoy the sight of her burrowing beneath the bed linens.
He stood before her half-naked, the breeches riding low on his hips. Amelia dragged her gaze away from the sleek, tightly muscled surface of his torso, and shivered between the cold layers of the bedclothes. “You’re putting me in a terrible position.”
Cam finished undressing and joined her beneath the covers. “I know other positions you’ll like much better.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Let’s get to the point, Amelia.” His hands closed over her shoulders. “Are you going to marry me?”
“I can’t,” she said weakly. “I just can’t. We don’t suit. It’s obvious we’re not at all alike. You’re impetuous. You make life-altering decisions in the blink of an eye. Whereas I choose one course and I don’t stray from it.”
“You strayed last night. And look how well it turned out.” He grinned at her expression. “I’m not impetuous, love. It’s just that I know when something is too important to be decided according to logic.”
“And marriage is one of those things?”
“Of course.” Cam settled a hand high on her chest, over the wild pounding of her heart. “You have to decide it in here.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“If you want me, love,” he whispered, “tell me in Romany. Please.”
Blindly Amelia turned her head and kissed the curve of his biceps. “What should I say?”
He murmured soft lyrical words, waiting patiently as she repeated them, helping her when she faltered. All the while he positioned himself against her, lower, tighter, and just as the last syllable left her lips, he thrust strongly inside her.
Amelia flinched and cried out in pain, and Cam was torn between acute regret at having hurt her, and the devastating pleasure of being inside her. Her innocent flesh cinched around the unfamiliar invasion, her hips lifting as if to throw him off, but every movement only drew him deeper. He tried to soothe away the hurt, stroking her, kissing her throat and breasts. Taking a rosy crest into his mouth, he sucked lightly, ran his tongue over it, until she relaxed beneath him and began to moan.
Cam couldn’t stop from moving then, forgetting everything but the need to push deeper into the gently gripping flesh, the warm limbs curving around him, the sweet panting mouth beneath his. He whispered compulsively against her lips … one word, over and over, the ecstasy crowning higher every time. “Mandis … mandis…”
Mine.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Watching the crackling fire, relishing the trusting weight of her head on his shoulder, Cam stroked her hair as it streamed over his arm. She slept heavily, while the fire pitched shadows from her long lashes across her cheeks. Cam looked over her with a lover’s vigilance, absorbing every detail, the feathery edge of her hairline, the neat slope of her nose, the small ears. He wanted to nibble at her ears, play with her, but he would do nothing to disturb her sleep.
He pulled a quilt higher over her snowy shoulder, stroked back a curl that had looped over her ear. Everything had changed, he thought. And there was no turning back.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“He dismounted and helped Amelia to the ground. At his direction, she sat on a fallen birch log while he set up a makeshift camp. She waited with her hands folded neatly in her lap, watching his every movement as he pulled a bundle of blankets from the packsaddle. In a few minutes he had made a fire in the stone-circled pit and laid out a pallet beside it.
Amelia hurried to the pile of blankets and burrowed beneath the layers of wool and quilted cotton. “Is it safe out here?” she asked, her voice muffled.
“You’re safe from everything but me.” Smiling, Cam lowered himself beside her.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Rohan’s head lifted. His eyes glowed as if brimstone were contained within the dark-rimmed irises. He spoke slowly, as if he were collecting words like fallen leaves. “This is probably a bad idea.”
Amelia nodded shakily. “Yes, Mr. Rohan.”
His fingertips teased a fresh surge of color to the surface of her cheeks. “My name is Cam.”
“I can’t call you that.”
“Why not?”
“You know why,” came her unsteady reproach. A long breath was neatly rifted as she felt his mouth descend to her cheek, exploring the rosy skin. “What does it mean?”
“My name? It’s the Romany word for ‘sun.’”
Amelia could scarcely think. “As in … the offspring of a father, or in the sky?”
“Sky.” He moved to the arch of her eyebrow, kissing the outward tip. “Did you know a Gypsy has three names?”
She shook her head slowly, while his mouth slid across her forehead. He pressed a warm veil of words against her skin. “The first is a secret name a mother whispers into her child’s ear at birth. The second is a tribal name used only by other Gypsies. The third is the name we use with non-Roma.”
His scent was all around her, spare and fresh and delicious. “What is your tribal name?”
He smiled slightly, the shape of his mouth a burning motif against her cheek. “I can’t tell you. I don’t know you well enough yet.”
Yet. The tantalizing promise embedded in that word shortened her breath. “Let me go,” she whispered. “Please, we mustn’t—” But the words were lost as he bent and took her mouth hungrily.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight

“Browsing among the stalls, the sisters feasted on hand-sized pork pies, leek pasties, apples and pears, and to the girls’ delight, “gingerbread husbands.” The gingerbread had been pressed into wooden man-shaped molds, baked and gilded. The baker at the stall assured them that every unmarried maiden must eat a gingerbread husband for luck, if she wanted to catch the real thing someday.
A laughing mock argument sprang up between Amelia and the baker as she flatly refused one for herself, saying she had no wish to marry.
“But of course you do!” the baker declared with a sly grin. “It’s what every woman hopes for.”
Amelia smiled and passed the gingerbread men to her sisters. “How much for three, sir?”
“A farthing each.” He attempted to hand her a fourth. “And this for no charge. It would be a sad waste for a lovely blue-eyed lady to go without a husband.”
“Oh, I couldn’t,” Amelia protested. “Thank you, but I don’t—”
A new voice came from behind her. “She’ll take it.”
Discomfiture and pleasure seethed low in her body, and Amelia saw a dark masculine hand reaching out, dropping a silver piece into the baker’s upturned palm.
Hearing her sisters’ giggling exclamations, Amelia turned and looked up into a pair of bright hazel eyes.
“You need the luck,” Cam Rohan said, pushing the gingerbread husband into her reluctant hands. “Have some.”
She obeyed, deliberately biting off the head, and he laughed.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight