Despite being a native Michigander, Alyssa Alexander is pretty certain she belongs somewhere sunny. And tropical. Where drinks are served with little paper umbrellas. But until she moves to those white sandy beaches, she survives the cold Michigan winters by penning romance novels that always include a bit of adventure. She lives with her own set of heroes, aka an ever-patient husband who doesn’t mind using a laundry basket for a closet, and a small boy who wears a knight in a shining armor costume for such tasks as scrubbing potatoes.
Top 5 Quotes from A DANCE WITH SEDUCTION
I’m utterly thrilled that A DANCE WITH SEDUCTION has released! This book is very close to my heart, as Maximilian and Vivienne are an untraditional hero and heroine. He’s a little gruff and reclusive, and even leans toward beta. Vivienne, also known as the Flower, is a spy. Not the derring-do type, but the sneaky kind. The Flower is nothing but layer upon layer of secrets.
I’d love to share an assortment of favorite quotes that I think represent Maximilian, Vivienne and their love.
Turning her head, Vivienne looked toward Monsieur Westwood. He, too, was bent over the letter. The unknown mark must have offended him. A great frown creased his forehead. Large, dark brows slashed downward. He had a prominent nose, though it was not unhandsome. Ah, but then there were his lips. Some men with such lips, they would be very great lovers. This man used a generous mouth to snarl at paper and ink.
This quote just tickles me. It’s quintessential Maximilian in that he’s totally focused on the a letter he is translating, frowning as he so often does. Vivienne sees beyond the scowl. He’s gruff, easily irritated, yet beneath that surface is someone else entirely.
“I know you are a man’s mistress, Flower, but never forget you are more than that.”
“Are you sure?” Deep words to match her unfathomable eyes.
“You are a lady of many layers, and every one of them is lovely.” Maximilian meant every word and more than he said.
Without spoiling the book, don’t take that particular bit about being a mistress at face value! Still, this quote makes me sigh, simply because Vivienne can’t see herself for who she is and needs Maximilian to show her.
She licked her lips, and his breath hitched.
“Maximilian. We are alone. No one will be in the house but you until the morning.”
He didn’t understand what she was saying. His ears heard her words, but his brain had disengaged.
Then he did understand.
“Are you certain?” Was that rasp the sound of his voice?
She nodded, her gaze never leaving his.
“Thank all the gods.”
I adore Maximilian. He has a sense of propriety that would never assume the Flower would be his lover. Maximilian’s gentlemanly side will always let the woman decide!
“Let me help you.” The words were so thoughtful, so comforting, her knees buckled.
How long had Maximilian been there? He was behind her, somewhere in the cavernous bedroom she had earned by being a pretty dancer who could steal small items on behalf of His Majesty.
“You cannot help, Maximilian.” She turned to looked at him, at this gentle and handsome man whose scowl had become so dear to her, and held out the soap so he could see the round, pale, common shape of it. “You cannot help. The soap will not make me clean enough.”
This is a moment that I have always loved. The soap is perfectly fine, though common, so as you might imagine that piece of soap represents much more than washing off the dirt of the day. It is the very core of who Vivienne is.
And last but not least, when they first discuss love. It doesn’t go all that well!
“Love?” The word was barely audible above the wind whistling through the alley. “Maximilian, did you say love?”
“Did I?” He thought back. God’s knees. “I suppose I did.”
“You love me?” She sounded terrified. Utterly and completely terrified.
Well, he felt terrified. “I don’t know. I don’t know who I love. Or what I love. Or—is this feeling even love? I can’t tell.” Not just terrified. Panicked. “It hurts. In my chest.”
“It hurts in my chest, too.” She sounded like she was breathing shallowly through her teeth. She gripped his shoulders, fingers digging into coat and muscle. “We’re in St. Giles. At the Queen’s Bathtub.”
“Not the best location to discuss love.” He pressed his face against the curve of her neck to suppress the laughter bubbling up. He was bordering on hysteria. Unfortunate that the Flower didn’t carry smelling salts.
I’m giggling just as much now as I did when I wrote this. It’s so Maximilian and Vivienne. Neither one of them wants to be in love, and frankly, they don’t really know how to be. They have to muddle along together!
She was the only code he couldn't break...
Vivienne Le Fleur is one of London’s most sought after opera dancer and one of England’s best weapons: the spy known as the Flower. When a French agent pressures her to change allegiance by abducting her sister, Vivienne is forced to seek the help of the only man in London who doesn’t want her.
Maximilian Westwood, retired code breaker, doesn't like surprises or mysteries and The Flower is both. When she sneaks into his study in the middle of the night with a coded message, he’s ready to push her out whatever window she arrived through. Except Maximilian is unable to turn away a woman in trouble. Determined to rescue Vivienne’s sister, they engage in a game of cat and mouse with French spies that requires all of Vivienne’s training and Maximilian’s abilities. Bound together by secrecy, they discover there is more between them than politics and hidden codes, but love has no place among the secrets of espionage...
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