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My Candidate For The Week
Anna Campbell has such talent and with every book that I have read, I fall in love!! Midnight's Wild Passion is no differet. A story about a bad boy rake and a fierce heroine, and how love can change everything!!
“Miss Smith, your suspicions wound me,' he said with a smile. He drew
her, stiff and unwilling, against his side. Immediately her warmth
seeped into his veins. He’d known he’d missed her, but only now did he
realize how much. 'I mean no harm.'
'You lie.'
'Often,' he agreed amiably, feeling the resistance leaching from her. 'Not this time.'
'I’m in no fit state to fight you,' she muttered, curving into him as if created to fit his body.
'I know,' he acknowledged ruefully, wondering why of all the women in the world, she was the only one who ignited any glimmer of chivalry in his soul. 'But it’s no fun when you just give in. I’ll wait until you’re up for another bout.'
She hid her face in his shoulder. She inhaled on a shudder, as if she hadn’t taken a full breath in days. 'You’re an evil devil, Ranelaw.'
'Absolutely,' he said softly, firming his hold as she shifted, not away as she should, but closer.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He’d always loved how she fought him. He loved the crackle and spark of her wit. Now he discovered he also loved the way she lay against him in what felt like perfect trust. …
Antonia was a tall, vital woman, no shrinking miss. Now she felt brittle and vulnerable. He tightened his hold and told himself the surge of protectiveness meant nothing. Again he couldn’t quite believe it
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Then she'd stared at him with those radiant blue eyes and asked him to let her go.
And bugger, bugger, bugger, he'd suddenly imagined he was sodding Sir Galahad
'You lie.'
'Often,' he agreed amiably, feeling the resistance leaching from her. 'Not this time.'
'I’m in no fit state to fight you,' she muttered, curving into him as if created to fit his body.
'I know,' he acknowledged ruefully, wondering why of all the women in the world, she was the only one who ignited any glimmer of chivalry in his soul. 'But it’s no fun when you just give in. I’ll wait until you’re up for another bout.'
She hid her face in his shoulder. She inhaled on a shudder, as if she hadn’t taken a full breath in days. 'You’re an evil devil, Ranelaw.'
'Absolutely,' he said softly, firming his hold as she shifted, not away as she should, but closer.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He’d always loved how she fought him. He loved the crackle and spark of her wit. Now he discovered he also loved the way she lay against him in what felt like perfect trust. …
Antonia was a tall, vital woman, no shrinking miss. Now she felt brittle and vulnerable. He tightened his hold and told himself the surge of protectiveness meant nothing. Again he couldn’t quite believe it
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Then she'd stared at him with those radiant blue eyes and asked him to let her go.
And bugger, bugger, bugger, he'd suddenly imagined he was sodding Sir Galahad
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