Hosted by Herding Cats and Burning Soup, Quote-tastic is a weekly Monday meme that gives readers a chance to share their favorite book quotes. So settle back, share your favorite quotes and
This week's quote:Wicked Intentions by Elizabeth Hoyt. This book should be free starting to day until December 12, so if you haven’t started Hoyt’s Maiden Lane series now is your chance to get the first book free!
“I loathe you, Lord Caire,” Temperance said through gritted teeth as she took his arm.
“So you’ve informed me already.”
“I am not finished.” She staggered as he leaned heavily against her. A young footman opened the carriage door, and he immediately took Lord Caire’s other arm to help him down. “You’re an impossibly rude man, without morals or even manners, as far as I can see.”
“Oh, stop, I beg you, Mrs. Dews.” Lord Caire grunted. “You’ll turn my head with this flattery.”
“And,” Temperance continued, ignoring his words, “you’ve behaved abominably to me since the moment we met—when you broke into my home, might I remind you.”
Lord Caire had made it to the street, where he paused, panting, his hand on the shoulder of the young footman who gaped at the two of them. “Is there a point to this diatribe, or are you merely venting your spleen?”
“I have a point,” Temperance said as she helped him up the steps to his imposing town house. “Despite your treatment of me and your own foul personality, I intend to stay with you until a doctor sees to you.”
“Flattered though I am by your martyrish impulses, Mrs. Dews, I have no need of your help. Bed and a brandy will no doubt see me right.”
“Really?” Temperance eyed the idiot man, swaying on his own doorstep. Sweat dripped down his reddened face, the hair at his temples was plastered to his head, and he literally shook against her.
In one swift move, Temperance elbowed him in his wounded shoulder.
“God’s blood!” Lord Caire doubled over, choking.
“Send for a doctor,” Temperance ordered the butler, who was standing wide-eyed at the door next to another footman. “Lord Caire is ill. And you two”—she jerked her chin at the footmen—“help Lord Caire to his bedroom.”
“You,” gasped Lord Caire, “are a vindictive harpy, madam.”
“No need to thank me,” Temperance said sweetly. “I’m merely doing my Christian duty.”
Infamous for his wild, sensual needs, Lazarus Huntington, Lord Caire, is searching for a savage killer in St. Giles, London's most notorious slum. Widowed Temperance Dews knows St. Giles like the back of her hand— she's spent a lifetime caring for its inhabitants at the foundling home her family established. Now that home is at risk.
A woman haunted by her past...
Caire makes a simple offer—in return for Temperance's help navigating the perilous alleys of St. Giles, he will introduce her to London's high society so that she can find a benefactor for the home. But Temperance may not be the innocent she seems, and what begins as cold calculation soon falls prey to a passion that neither can control—one that may well destroy them both.
A bargain neither could refuse.
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