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Kerrigan Byrne

The Highwayman

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They're rebels, scoundrels, and blackguards-dark, dashing men on the wrong side of the law. But for the women who love them, a hint of danger only makes the heart beat faster, in the stunning debut historical romance The Highwayman by Kerrigan Byrne.
STEALING BEAUTY Dorian Blackwell, the Blackheart of Ben More, is a ruthless villain. Scarred and hard-hearted, Dorian is one of Victorian London's wealthiest, most influential men who will stop at nothing to wreak vengeance on those who've wronged him…and will fight to the death to seize what he wants. The lovely, still innocent widow Farah Leigh Mackenzie is no exception-and soon Dorian whisks the beautiful lass away to his sanctuary in the wild Highlands…
COURTING DESIRE But Farah is no one's puppet. She possesses a powerful secret-one that threatens her very life. When being held captive by Dorian proves to be the only way to keep Farah safe from those who would see her…
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Впечатления

  • a out of contextделится впечатлением2 года назад

    9/10

  • Sofiaделится впечатлением3 года назад
    👍Worth reading
    🔮Hidden Depths
    🎯Worthwhile
    💞Loved Up
    💧Soppy

    Quotes:
    1.
    “I was thinking,” he said some time later as she paused for a drowsy yawn. “Since ye doona have any family to love anymore, ye could love me…” Instead of meeting her gaze, he studied the way the pristine white of her petticoat bandage made his hand look that much grubbier. “That is, if ye wanted.”
    ---
    2.
    "In this quiet, unfettered moment, she knew him, truly saw him for what he was. Hard, ruthless tyrant. Abused, wounded boy. An empty heart full of promise, and a soul of shadows in need of sunlight."

Цитаты

  • books_&_desireцитирует9 месяцев назад
    The ghost of a boy long dead, and yet who lived on. Perhaps not in name, or perhaps in name only.
  • wrayцитирует2 года назад
    Instead, a strong arm swept beneath her knees and lifted her until she was cradled to his thick chest.
  • wrayцитирует2 года назад
    Drove his tongue into her with deep, drugging thrusts.
    Farah wanted to leave this place. To escape the smell and the death and the fear. But she felt her husband’s ribs expanding with heaving, painful breaths against her chest, and detected bone-deep tremors running through his solid frame, and so she stood passively in his arms, submitting to his scorching kisses.
    He said her name almost incoherently between rough drags of his hard lips and bristly chin. “Fairy. My Fairy.”
    She tried to answer him, to soothe him, but each time she took a breath, he claimed her lips again.

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