Annabelle And Simon Quotes

“Dearest," she murmured, "as you know, there was a time when it didn't matter to me whether I married a man I loved or not... it seemed enough just to get my family out of the desperate situation we were in. But when I thought about what it would be like to share a bed with my husband... to spend the rest of my life with him... I knew Simon was the only choice." She paused, and sudden tears glittered her eyes. Beautiful, self-possessed Annabelle, who hardly ever cried. "When I'm ill," she continued in a husky voice, "when I'm afraid, when I need something, I know he will move heaven and earth to make everything all right. I trust him with every fiber of my being. And when I see the child we created, the two of us mingled forever in her... my God, how grateful I am that I married Simon.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“The glittering light of eight chandeliers was reflected in her upturned eyes, filling them with tiny sparks that made the blue irises look like a starry summer midnight. She was staring at him with an intensity that she had never shown before, as if she yearned for something she might never have. The look disquieted him, eliciting a powerful need to satisfy her in any way possible. Whatever she might have asked him for in that moment, he would have given without a qualm.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“Everything you do or say interests me."
"Really," she said skeptically. "What about Lord Westcliff's claim that I'm shallow and self-absorbed?"
As she faced him, Simon braced one hand on the wall near her head and leaned over her protectively. His voice was very soft. "He doesn't know you."
"And you do?"
"Yes, I know you." He reached out to finger a tendril of damp hair that clung to her neck. "You guard yourself carefully. You don't like to depend on anyone. You're determined and strong-willed, and you're decided in your opinions. Not to mention stubborn. But never self-absorbed. And anyone with your intelligence could never be called shallow.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“Annabelle moistened her dry lips. "You... you mustn't stare at me like that."
Soft as the murmur was, he caught it. "With you here, nothing else is worth looking at.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“Simon had never forgotten the first moment that he had seen her standing outside the panorama, digging through her purse with a little pucker on her forehead. The sun had picked out streaks of gold and champagne in her light brown hair and made her skin glow. There had been something so delicious... so touchable... about her, the velvety skin and shining blue eyes, and the slight frown that he had longed to soothe away.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“They reached the summit of a shallow incline and were greeted with a surprising vista of bluebells that blanketed the forest floor. It was like stumbling into a dream, the cerulean haze seeping between the trunks of oak and beech and ash. The smell of bluebells was everywhere, the perfumed air feeling heavy and rich in her lungs.
Pausing by a slender tree trunk, Annabelle curled her arm around it loosely and stared at the stands of bluebells with surprised pleasure. "Lovely," she murmured, her face gleaming in the shadow cast by the canopy of ancient, interlaced branches.
"Yes." But Hunt was looking at her, not the bluebells, and one glance at his expression caused the blood to tingle in her veins.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“She closed her eyes and listened to the drone of bees as they moved lazily among the flowering bursts of deep pink hydrangea and delicate tendrils of sweet pea that wound through the basket-bed borders. Although she was still very weak, it was pleasant to sit in warm lethargy, half-drowsing like a cat.
She was slow to respond when she heard a sound from the doorway... a single light rap, as if the visitor was reluctant to disrupt her reverie with a loud knock. Blinking her sun-dazzled eyes, Annabelle remained sitting with her legs tucked beneath her. The mass of light speckles gradually faded from her vision, and she found herself staring at Simon Hunt's dark, lean form. He had leaned part of his weight on the doorjamb, bracing a shoulder against it in an unselfconsciously rakish pose. His head was slightly tilted as he considered her with an unfathomable expression.
Annabelle's pulse escalated to a mad clatter. As usual, Hunt was dressed impeccably, but the gentlemanly attire did nothing to disguise the virile energy that seemed to emanate from him. She recalled the hardness of his arms and chest as he had carried her, the touch of his hands on her body... oh, she would never be able to look at him again without remembering!
"You look like a butterfly that's just flown in from the garden," Hunt said softly.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“What an extraordinary creature," Win heard Dr. Harrow murmur nearby. She followed his gaze to the lady of the house, Mrs. Annabelle Hunt, who was greeting guests.
Although Win had never met Mrs. Hunt, she recognized her from descriptions she had heard. Mrs. Hunt was said to be one of the greatest beauties of England, with her beautifully turned figure and heavily lashed blue eyes, and hair that gleamed with rich shades of honey and gold. But it was her luminous, lively expressiveness that made her truly engaging.
"That's her husband, standing next to her," Poppy murmured. "He's intimidating, but very nice."
"I beg to differ," Leo said.
"You don't think he's intimidating?" Win asked.
"I don't think he's nice. Whenever I happen to be in the same room as his wife, he looks at me as if he'd like to dismember me."
"Well," Poppy said prosaically, "one can't fault his judgment." She leaned toward Win and said, "Mr. Hunt is besotted with his wife. Their marriage is a love match, you see."
"How unfashionable," Dr. Harrow commented with a grin.
"He even dances with her," Beatrix told Win, "which husbands and wives are never supposed to do. But considering Mr. Hunt's fortune, people find reasons to excuse him for such behavior."
"See how small her waist is," Poppy murmured to Win. "And that's after three children- two of them very large boys.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Seduce Me at Sunrise

“My husband is endlessly fascinated by machines," Mrs. Hunt said, laughing. "I believe they've eclipsed all his other interests."
"Not all," Hunt said softly. Something about the way he glanced at his wife caused her cheeks to flush.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Seduce Me at Sunrise

“Mrs. Hunt approached Amelia and Win. "Winnifred." Her voice was very gentle. "If this rumor is not true, I will take action at once to deny it on your behalf."
Win drew in a trembling breath. "It is true," she said.
Mrs. Hunt patted her arm and gave her a reassuring glance. "Trust me, you are not the first nor will you be the last to find yourself in this predicament."
"In fact," came Mr. Hunt's lazy drawl, "Mrs. Hunt has firsthand experience in such a-"
"Mr. Hunt," his wife said indignantly, and he grinned.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Seduce Me at Sunrise

“Will you have a glass, Hunt?" Westcliff asked, indicating the tray on a nearby table.
"Thank you, but no," Hunt said affably, pulling Annabelle's arm through his. "If you'll pardon us, I have a few things to discuss with my wife." And without waiting for an answer, he dragged Annabelle from the ballroom with a haste that left no doubt as to what would happen next.
"Yes, I'm sure they'll be chatting up a storm," Rafe remarked, and winced as Lillian drove her elbow hard into his side.”
― Lisa Kleypas, A Wallflower Christmas

“The fourteen-year-old boys, Ashton and Augustus, were the youngest offspring of Mr. and Mrs. Simon Hunt, who had been close friends to the Challons since before Phoebe had been born.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“In Simon's entire life, he had never experienced such potent craving as he had the moment he had seen Annabelle half-undressed in the meadow. His entire body had been flooded with the urge to dismount his horse, seize Annabelle in his arms, and carry her to the nearest soft patch of grass he could find. He could not imagine a more unholy temptation than the sight of her voluptuous body, the expanse of silken skin tinted in shades of cream and pink, the sun-streaked golden brown hair. She had looked so enchantingly mortified, blushing everywhere.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“The truth is, you can never really know a man until you've loaned him money. And you can never know a woman until you've slept in her bed."
He said it deliberately, of course, to shock her. And he succeeded, although Annabelle did her best to conceal it. "Mr. Hunt," she said, frowning into his smiling eyes, "if you continue to make vulgar remarks, I will be forced to ask you to leave the parlor."
"Forgive me." His instant contrition didn't fool her in the least. "It's just that I can't resist the opportunity to make you blush. I've never known a woman to do it as often as you do."
The bloom that had begun at her throat flamed up to her hairline. "I never blush. It's only around you that I-" Breaking off, she stared at him with an indignant frown that made him laugh.
"I'll behave for now," he said. "Don't tell me to leave."
She stared at him indecisively, passing an unsteady hand over her forehead, and the sign of her physical frailty caused him to speak even more gently. "It's all right," he murmured. "Let me stay, Annabelle.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“You don't want him," Hunt said softly.
"Oh, yes I do." Annabelle paused dreamily, half propping her head on her curled arm. "And... although you have been very kind to me, Mr. Hunt... I'm afraid that I can't let that change my plans."
He stared at her in the same relaxed but engrossed way he had regarded the chessboard. "I'm not going to change my plans, either, sweetheart."
If Annabelle hadn't been so tired, she would have objected to the endearment. Instead she pondered his words sleepily. His plans... "Which are to try and stop me from catching Lord Kendall," she said.
"They go somewhere beyond that," he replied, amusement lurking in one corner of his mouth.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm hardly going to reveal my strategy. Clearly I need every advantage I can get. The next move is yours, Miss Peyton. Just remember that I'll be watching you.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“Wishing for someone to talk to, some warm human hand to cling to, she walked across the giant chessboard, searching blindly through the crowd of immobile figures... until she saw a dark form leaning indolently against a white marble column. Her heart began to hammer, and her steps slowed as she was filled with a rush of excitement that heated her skin and made her pulse beat in urgent rhythm.
It was Simon Hunt, walking toward her with a slight smile on his face. He caught her before she could retreat, and bent to whisper in her ear.
"Will you dance with me now?"
"I can't," she said breathlessly, struggling in his tightening embrace.
"Yes, you can," he urged gently, his mouth hot and tender as it moved across her face. "Put your arms around me..."
As she writhed in his embrace, he laughed softly and kissed her until she was limp and helpless against him. "Queen is now subject to capture," he murmured, drawing back to stare at her with deviltry in his eyes. "You're in danger, Annabelle...”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“If you're implying that I'm spoiled, I assure you that I'm not."
"You should be." His warm gaze slid over her pink-tinted face and slender upper body, then sought hers again. There was a note in his voice that gently robbed her breath. "You could do with a bit of spoiling."
Annabelle inhaled deeply, trying to restore the natural rhythm of her lungs.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“Simon's gaze wandered over the drifts of lace and muslin that covered her body. Still dressed in his formal black wedding suit, he approached her slowly and came to stand before her as she remained sitting in the chair. To her surprise, he lowered to his knees to bring their faces level, his thighs bracketing her slender calves. A large hand lifted to the shimmering fall of her hair, and he combed his fingers through it, watching with fascination as the golden brown strands slipped across his knuckles.
Although Simon was immaculately dressed, there were signs of dishevelment that lured her attention... the short forelocks of his hair falling over his forehead, the loosened knot of his ice gray silk cravat. Dropping the brush to the floor, Annabelle used her fingers to smooth his hair in a tentative stroke. The sable filaments were thick and gleaming, springing willfully against her fingertips. Simon held still for her as she untied the cravat, the heavy silk saturated with the warmth of his skin. His eyes contained an expression that caused a ticklish sensation in the pit of her stomach.
"Every time I see you," he murmured. "I think you couldn't possibly become any more beautiful- and you always prove me wrong.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“She had never had such delicious food... tender cockerel that had been simmered with tiny onions in red wine... duck confit expertly roasted until it was melting-soft beneath crisp oiled skin... rascasse fish served in thick truffled sauce... then, of course, there were the desserts... thick slices of cake soaked in liqueur and heaped with meringue, and puddings layered with nuts and glaceed fruit. As Simon witnessed Annabelle's agonized choice of what to order for dessert each night, he assured her gravely that generals had gone to war with far less deliberation than she gave to the choice between the pear tart or the vanilla souffle.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“This is my favorite waltz," she told him, moving into his arms.
"I know. That's why I requested it."
"How did you know?" she asked with an incredulous laugh. "I suppose one of the Bowman sisters told you?"
Simon shook his head, while his gloved fingers curved around hers. "On more than one occasion, I saw your face when they played it. You always looked ready to fly out of your chair."
Annabelle's lips parted in surprise, and she stared up at him with a wondering gaze. How could he have noticed something so subtle? She had always been so dismissive of him, and yet he had noticed her reaction to a particular piece of music and remembered it. The realization brought the sting of tears to her eyes, and she looked away immediately, fighting to bring the sudden baffling swell of emotion under control.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“You're a strong woman, Annabelle. Stronger than I would have believed."
"No, it's my love for you that is strong.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“Yes, I think-" Lillian paused only briefly as she saw someone come into the room. A very tall and piratical-looking someone who could only be Simon Hunt, Annabelle's husband. Although Hunt had begun his career working in his father's butcher shop, he had eventually become one of the wealthiest men in England, owning locomotive foundries and a large portion of the railway business. He was Lord Westcliff's closest friend, a man's man who appreciated good liquor and fine horses and demanding sports. But it was no secret that what Simon Hunt loved most in the world was Annabelle.
"I think," Lillian continued as Hunt walked quietly up behind Annabelle, "the tree is perfect. And I think someone had very good timing in arriving so late that he didn't have to decorate even one bloody branch of it."
"Who?" Annabelle asked, and started a little as Simon Hunt put his hands lightly over her eyes. Smiling, he bent to murmur something private into her ear.
Color swept over the portion of Annabelle's face that was still exposed. Realizing who was behind her, she reached up to pull his hands down to her lips, and she kissed each of his palms in turn. Wordlessly she turned in his arms, laying her head against his chest.
Hunt gathered her close. "I'm still covered in travel dust," he said gruffly. "But I couldn't wait another damned second to see you."
Annabelle nodded, her arms clutching around his neck. The moment was so spontaneously tender and passionate that it cast a vaguely embarrassed silence through the room.”
― Lisa Kleypas, A Wallflower Christmas

“Will you have a glass, Hunt?" Westcliff asked, indicating the tray on a nearby table.
"Thank you, but no," Hunt said affably, pulling Annabelle's arm through his. "If you'll pardon us, I have a few things to discuss with my wide." And without waiting for an answer, he dragged Annabelle from the ballroom with a haste that left no doubt as to what would happen next.
"Yes, I'm sure they'll be chatting up a storm," Rafe remarked, and winced as Lillian drove her elbow hard into his side.”
― Lisa Kleypas, A Wallflower Christmas