Kate Madsen Quotes

“Carrying her over to his bed, he slowly laid her on it. She sank into the mattress with a dreamy murmur of a sigh.
Though the protective impulse he had felt toward her earlier had returned full force, the soft and sensual moan from her lips filled him with a moment's blinding lust.
Dear God. A tremor of hunger ran through him. His stare traveled over her lax face and down her white neck to her creamy chest. He swallowed hard, gazing at her breasts.
Somehow, he became fixated on them again.
Heart pounding, he moved slowly and with caution sat on the edge of the bed. Desire slammed through his veins, but he only meant to look. She was a harlot, she wouldn't care, as long as he had money, which he did, lots of it. Yet it amazed him that such beauty could be purchased for the taking. She was exquisite, with the dusky fringe of her lashes fanned above her cheeks in sleep.
The thick and wavy cloud of her satiny brown hair flowed back from the pale oval of her face and spilled across his pillow.
He marveled at the creamy shimmer of her complexion in the firelight, her flushed cheeks like delicate pink-tinted porcelain. His gaze traveled over her smooth forehead, the delicate twin arches of her light brown eyebrows, and her small, prettily formed nose.
He would not have guessed her any common sort of wench. Then his attention strayed to her pink lips in ever-growing desire, a gathering smolder darkening his eyes.
She had a very charming chin, slightly pronounced, and hinting at a firm stubbornness of character. He wanted to nibble its smooth rounded curve.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“My mother's dearest wish was for me to have the sort of education usually reserved for a son."
"Why is that?"
She shrugged. "She disliked having been so sheltered at her convent school. The nuns wanted to mold young ladies who were virtuous, not learned, and when France went mad, she resented having been molded into a beautiful, helpless damsel, unprepared to fend for herself in any particular.
"She convinced my father that that must never be allowed to happen to me. That I must be molded with great independence, and raised to be able to care for myself. She wanted to make sure that if the world ever went to hell in a handbasket again in my day, as in hers, that I would be able to survive.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“He hit me, you know," she announced abruptly.
Rohan turned and stared at her with sudden, great stillness. "What?"
"Oops," she said mildly. "I wasn't going to tell you that."
"O'Banyon. Hit. You."
She shrugged.
"In the face?" he demanded.
"He slapped me because I was fighting him."
"I see." Rohan stared straight ahead, every muscle tensed. He suddenly looked very much like an expert assassin. "Well, he won't do that again."
"What are you going to do?"
One lifted eyebrow said it all.
"Oh, it didn't hurt that much! I'm fine. There's no need for anything excessive."
"Stay out of it, Kate," he said politely, then he shook open the note with cool and steady hands.
She looked askance at him in curious satisfaction.
She could almost taste the justice that she had hungered for constantly since her abduction. But now that she knew it was all but guaranteed, somehow, it didn't matter so much anymore. Just knowing that Rohan was willing to champion her was enough.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“We already know they used the table of elements to devise the clues. Now, the four cardinal directions each corresponds to one of the original four elements of the ancients. We've already gone through water---the waterfall, fire---the Hall of Fire, then we had to swing through the air. That only leaves the element of earth. Which corresponds to... north." She looked up from the compass to the door ahead of them.
He stared at her in admiration "You're good."
"Maybe it's just my Promethean blood.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“Go upstairs and wait for me," he ordered her.
Kate stopped, taken off guard by the velvet undertones in his deep voice. She forgot her anger for a heartbeat, arrested by the promise of pleasure in his smoky eyes; she stood motionless, staring at him but disoriented when the drug swept her up in its most disturbing side effect yet.
Attraction. Arousal.
A fatal fascination with him gripped her. He was beautiful, undeniably, but an utter mystery to her. One she suddenly desired to solve, obsessed as she had always been with finding hidden answers. An impetuous hunger to taste his lips stormed through her blood.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“Strange bits of scarlet dreams drifted back to her. Thrilling sensations aroused by the most indecent liberties, and dear me, she thought with a flutter in the pit of her belly, the gorgeous firelit image of a naked man like a demigod coming towards her.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“They had terrorized this poor, defenseless beauty.
He would make them rue it.
As for Kate, after all she had been through, she had impressed him with her self-possession, to say nothing of her fiery spirit. She had stood there ready to battle him like some spunky little terrier barking at a wolf, aye, and throwing the greater predator into temporary confusion with her unexpected show of ferocity.
Though petite of build, she was large in courage, a little lady of intrepid spirit”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“The most startling part was that, if he recalled correctly, the DuMarins' medieval ancestor was none other than Valerian the Alchemist--- the same dark wizard who had laid the Kilburn Curse upon his family.
This heritage would've made Kate practically royalty among the Prometheans---and could make her all the more dangerous to him. For beyond superstition, the girl seemed uniquely suited to enchant him.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“Rohan gave her a coaxing nod toward the food like a man trying to get a wounded wild animal to eat.
Was that what she had become after her ordeal? At home on the windy moors, alone with the falcons and the wild ponies, she had never been all that tame to start with.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“Her throat interested him greatly, the lovely arc beneath her dainty earlobe, the milky skin, the silken cascade of her perfumed hair...
His mind drifted, the wine warming his senses. It had now been three days since he'd had a woman, and he had not forgotten the way she had felt beneath him last night. He still wanted her in spite of himself.
Her lips' dewy roses beguiled him, along with the teasing sparkle in those emerald green eyes beneath her black velvet lashes. The candlelight brought out a golden luster in the depths of her light brown hair and danced along the delicate lines of her bare shoulders.
Was it wrong to want to lick the caramel sauce out of her splendid cleavage instead of drizzling it politely on the cheesecake? He did his best to keep a tight rein on his dangerous hunger for her, even as his hands tingled with yearning to caress all her creamy, glowing skin.
As he took another large swallow of port, he contemplated the fact that there was one sure way to find out if she was really as innocent as she would have him believe.
If she was a part of her forebears' sinister conspiracy, it was unlikely that she was a virgin. He was keenly tempted to verify her status for himself by luring her into his bed and finishing what they had started last night.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“As it happens, I have a terrible weakness for books."
"What kinds of books?"
"All kinds." Her white shoulders lifted in a charming little shrug, momentarily fascinating him. "History, science, natural philosophy."
"Really?" Born and bred for action, he had never been much of a scholar himself.
"Oh, yes. The ancients. Traveler's tales. And... Gothic novels," she admitted, biting her lip with an impish twinkle in her eyes. "Ghosts and curses and such.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“He eyed her hungrily. "Now, eat your cake or whatever it is and try to be a good girl."
"It's German apple puff, for your information. Have you tried it? It's delicious. Here." She leaned slowly across the table and fed him a bite from her spoon.
He helped himself to a leisurely look at her décolletage as he opened his mouth and accepted. "Mm. That is good."
"Told you so." Her eyes twinkled as she leaned back in her chair in leisurely contentment.
"I thought you said a while ago you had no room left for the sweets."
"I'm pacing myself. Besides---" She took another dainty nibble off her dessert spoon. "There were no corsets in the trunk of goodies your servants brought me, so, you see, I'm wonderfully free to make a glutton of myself."
This little fact arrested his full attention. His stare homed in on her figure--- what he could see of it over the table. "You mean...?"
"Indeed, Your Grace. Tonight, I go au naturel." She laughed like she enjoyed teasing him and took another remorseless bite of German apple puff.
Rohan watched her with strange sensations of delight.
God, she was a maddening woman. An unpredictable blend of innocence and passion. Intelligent, mercurial. Her prickly side amused him, but he liked her even better like this, open and relaxed.
Uncorseted.
In her scintillating humor, she threw off light like the candle glow as it played over the cut-crystal facets of their wine goblets. In short, she enchanted him. Maybe she had inherited some of her ancestor Valerian's magic.
Rohan had a feeling he was doomed.
He could sense a most unforeseen bond growing between them and did not know what to make of it.
"Staring again, Your Grace?"
"I've just decided you are rather naughty. And I like it."
She shrugged. "You said we were celebrating. Anyway, it's your fault. If you wanted me to behave, you shouldn't have made me try so many wines."
"Why on earth would I want that?" he asked softly.
"Hm." She caught a bead of condensation running down the shaft of her narrow champagne flute on her fingertip and brought it to her lips.
Damn, but just watching her got him hard.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“He found too many real traits to admire in her character--- courage, independence. With all of the needy, clinging ladies waiting for him back in London, he particularly liked her sturdy self-reliance. Gerald Fox's daughter was as sharp as a tack and yet quite down-to-earth.
She did not weary him with mindless prattle; did not simper, grovel, or pry; did not even seem to know how to toady to a man of his consequence. She did not play the coquette, either--- a tactic he had enjoyed from women but had never trusted. Instead, she spoke her mind almost as plainly as a man, and as a result, her conversation actually held his interest.
Kate peppered her language with witty observations, occasionally made at his expense. He found her saucy impudence oddly refreshing, and instead of minding it, served it back to her. It was great fun to jest and needle each other in mutual irreverence, as they had that night at dinner; one thing they had in common was a willingness to mock their own foibles. Kate laughed at herself for a bluestocking, while he knew very well he was a superstitious fool.
But even all of this did not get to the heart of her effect on him.
Growing up out there on the moors, isolated from the world, she had an untouched quality about her that made him ache in ways he could not explain.
He was so drawn to her.
It made him rather uncomfortable. But that night at dinner when she had described her solitary mode of life at her cottage, he had realized that, unlike so many others, she, too, understood the degree of loneliness that he knew all too well.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“Trying to keep Rohan out of her thoughts, wondering endlessly if she should apologize for throwing herself at him, she traveled from shelf to shelf, rearranging the books by language, by historical period, by size, as was practical, and above all, alphabetically, by the writer's last name.
She had found multiple titles by individual authors scattered willy-nilly through the collection. It made her want to pull her hair out. Obviously!- an individual author's body of work all belonged on one shelf, the works arranged, in turn, by whatever system was most suitable: by volume number, alphabetically by title, or by the year of publication, or, in case of playwrights, works grouped by genre- tragedies with tragedies, comedies with comedies, histories with histories, and so on.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“Using the delicate cloth like a handkerchief to protect the brittle pages, she opened the first book she had unearthed: On Dragons.
"Oh, how wonderful!" she murmured to herself, gazing at the wildly colored illustrations of giant reptiles, winged and breathing fire.
The Chaucerian English was going to take some work to decipher. She would have to see what reference texts she could find in the collection to help her work out the captions, but for now, the pictures fascinated her.
The next page showed a silver-armored knight astride a galloping white steed. Armed with a lance, he was shown charging at the hideous, horned dragon that loomed over him, its black, batlike wings outstretched.
The knight in the picture had a winged ally of his own, however. In the sky above him hovered none other than St. Michael the Archangel again, her old friend from the duke's family chapel.
Come to think of it, she mused, wasn't that white Maltese cross on the little knight's pennant another detail she had noticed in the chapel?
She turned the page and stopped at the next colorful picture of a dragon holding its egg in its claws. Some sort of curious symbol was depicted inside the rounded contours of the egg. Kate furrowed her brow and leaned closer, studying the symbol on the dragon's egg. A tingle of faint recognition ran down her spine.
I've seen this before.
The symbol showed an eight-spoked wagon wheel, with a flaming torch in the center. Beneath the wheel was the Latin motto, Non serviam.
Easy enough to translate: "I will not serve.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“So, what are your thoughts about this symbol, Kate?" he asked mildly.
"Well, you see, the picture jarred my memory. Actually, I can't believe that I forgot---but, then again, I was just a wee thing at the time."
"Forgot about what?" he asked impatiently.
"My mother's book!"
He eyed her warily, recalling at once the book he had seen the Count DuMarin's veiled daughter, Lady Gabrielle, holding tightly to her chest on the night she had been handed over into the watchful care of Captain Fox.
Rohan had assumed it was a Bible.
"My mother brought a book with her from France containing this same symbol!" Kate explained. "It was a big thick tome, with all kinds of strange symbols and diagrams and writings. It had little maps and puzzles of different sorts figure out. Back when I was a little girl on my father's ship, my parents were constantly poring over it."
He frowned.
"Rohan, it was all about Valerian the Alchemist!" she exclaimed. "I don't know if the book was by him or simply written about him, but it contained clues to the secret location of his tomb. They were on a treasure hunt!"
He narrowed his eyes. The Alchemist's Tomb? But it had passed into legend long ago.
"Alchemy---you know!" Kate was saying excitedly. "Changing base metals into gold? There was supposed to be a horde of hidden treasure buried with him.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“She drew his warm, oversized robe closer around her body, suddenly feeling lost, not knowing how to act.
"Well, go get dressed," he ordered with a lordly little smile as he noticed her wavering. "How's a man to think with a luscious naked woman lying around? You, my dear, are far too distracting."
His smoldering gaze, so full of desire for her, thrilled Kate to the marrow. His glance alone could warm her blood on this cold winter's day.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“Kate was especially intrigued by entries in the book showing scientific notations for chemical compounds.
The long, complicated sequences of elements left her wondering what sort of substances these ingredients produced. Had her ancestors managed to preserve some of Valerian's ancient formulas for alchemy potions?”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“One of the women shoved the door open the rest of the way, and they all stared at her, looking utterly indignant that another female had beaten them to the punch.
"Why, that blue-eyed devil! He's with someone already!"
"Warrington, you Beast! Oh, let us in, old man. We know he's in there!"
"Mesdames!" Kate flung out sharply, unable to stand another moment of their intrusion. One hand on her hip, she lifted her chin and summoned up every ounce of elegant French hauteur that she had inherited from her mama. "His Grace is not at home," she clipped out. "Leave your cards, please, and I will make sure he receives your--- well-wishes," she finished cynically.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“In light of his own new acquaintance with Kate, Rohan suddenly did not find Max's romantic agonies several months ago quite so droll as he had at the time.
But he chased Kate fiercely out of his mind once again, determined that they should detect no change in his demeanor. And she had changed him. He knew it down to the core of his barbaric soul. She made him... what was that foreign word---? Oh, yes.
Happy.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“When he reached the music room, he leaned in the open doorway for a moment and smiled as he studied the alluring arrangement of his darling mistress reclining on the light green settee.
Dressed in a pink gown with striped satin skirts, Kate was idly thumbing through her mother's book, open on her lap. She had loosed her soft brown hair; it flowed over her shoulders in crimped waves from her earlier chignon.
"There you are," he greeted her with a glow of appreciation in his eyes. "And don't you look pretty as a picture.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“Of course, Papa had the right to remarry. He lost his wife. He was still a young man for a widower. It's only right that he should have wanted to wed again and have more children. No one wants to be alone.
What Gerald did not seem to realize, damn him, was how alone Kate had been all those years, growing up on the moors with no companions but the falcons and the wild ponies--- and of course, her books. In silent empathy, Rohan yearned to hold her though she had quickly masked her pain.
She seemed all right now; she really was the most resilient, brave, unselfish, and remarkable woman he had ever met. But if she was still hurting, she might not rebuff the offer of his body, the consolation of his lovemaking.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“Your father ruined my life; you will not ruin my daughter's! I don't give a damn for your rank. You will marry her, do you understand me?"
"Papa!"
"Stay out of this, girl---"
"No, you stay out of it!" she shouted without warning.
He looked her up and down in outrage, but Kate's temper snapped. "Leave him alone! I've managed just fine these past many years without a father, so don't think you can come barging into my life and immediately tell me whom to marry!"
"Oho, so you do reproach me?" he exclaimed. "I knew it!"
"You sailed off and forgot about me!" she cried.
"I did not!"
"You went on with your life! Your new family. Well, I went on with mine, too," she flung out as the anger burst from her more sharply than she had intended. "Warrington is my lover. So what? Welcome to the world.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“I'm not interested in your charity, Duke! Remember yesterday?"
The dolt had surely had not forgotten her hurling his money at his head.
"As for you, Papa, you forfeited the right to pick my husband when you had Charley lie to me and tell me you were dead. So, kill each other if you like. You're both fools, as far as I'm concerned!"
With a furious sob, she ran the rest of the way to her cabin, leaving the two oddly similar men behind in an awkward, stymied silence.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“Did you know Orkney was a favorite stop of Viking ships along their voyages?"
"She's been at the almanac again," her sire said dryly.
Rohan succumbed to a fond grin. "Our little bluestocking.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“Kate, you are not going in there."
Her stubborn gaze met his. "You need me in there with you, and we both know it."
"Out of the question! You listen to me, young lady," her father blustered. "That evil place took your mother from me. I'll not lose you, as well!"
"Papa, you know I have to do this. You can't stop me. This is my decision."
"It's madness!" Gerald cried, paling. "What are you trying to prove? It won't bring her back!"
"I know that, but at least then I will have some answers. This is the reason you made sure to have me educated like a son, remember? I can do this, Papa. Rohan, I'll be waiting in the boat."
"You are staying here," he replied.
Anger flashed across her face. "Haven't you two realized yet that you don't run my life? That place killed my mother! Besides, I have a right---the Alchemist is my ancestor, not yours---and also, I'm the only one who has figured out the clues."
"Kate, I don't know what sort of deviltry I may face in there. I'm sorry, but this time, considering I have no idea what I'm getting into, I don't want to be responsible for having to protect you."
"With all due respect, Your Grace, I'm the one who'll be protecting you on this occasion. You're a warrior, not a scholar, Rohan. I've been studying this book, and I've already decoded the clues. You don't stand a chance without me."
"Just give them to me."
"No! I'm going with you. Now, if you prefer to survive the fiendish obstacle course that lies beyond that cave, quit wasting time arguing with me, because my mind will not be changed. For that matter, the Prometheans will be here soon. So, let's go!" With that, she pivoted on her heel and marched off toward the small-boat.
Once more, she had left him and her father stymied, not sure what to say.
"She's very determined," Rohan finally muttered.
"Wish I could say she takes after her mother, but I'm afraid she's a bit too much like me."
"You think?”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“It's because of Kate that we were able to get to the Alchemist's scrolls and keep them out of the hands of the Prometheans." He took out the key from Valerian's tomb and opened the case.
At once, Jordan was on his feet, crossing to the trove of scrolls, crouching down to view them in fascination.
"You'll have your work cut out for you now," Max remarked to him.
"They're all in code," Kate spoke up, "but I-I made some progress on that from my mother's book. Maybe I could help."
They all looked at her. Virgil eyed her as if she were some manner of rat that had crawled up from the river.
Kate finally took umbrage at his hostility, knitting her eyebrows together. "I know I have Promethean bloodlines, sir, but I-I am a good person!" she asserted firmly, her heart pounding. "I love Rohan, and I will do whatever I can to help your cause, just like my grandfather did. My own mother was a victim of Promethean evil, too, you know. I understand your skepticism, but I hope you will at least give me a chance!"
Max stared at her, a faint twinkle of approval in his eyes at her refusal to be intimidated. "Well, well," he murmured. "She certainly sounds like a Warrington."
Rohan smiled ruefully.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke

“Kate still was not used to all the attention, but she was told from those in the know, that from the first whispered rumors of their secret marriage, she had charmed the ton.
The Society pages praised the excellent taste of her enormous wardrobe; the hostesses of the aristocracy were pleased with her French noble blood; and at the ball the Rotherstones had given in her and Rohan's honor a few weeks ago, the ton's haughtiest dandies, the cruelest arbiters of taste, had pronounced her the rarest of finds: a great beauty with a sharp mind, a spirited wit, and a bold sense of style.
In short, she had been proclaimed "all the kick.”
― Gaelen Foley, My Dangerous Duke