Ceremony in Death Quotes

“For once, he slept first. She lay in the dark, listening to him breathe, stealing a little of his warmth as her own body cooled. Since he was asleep, she stroked his hair.

"I love you," she murmured. "I love you so much, I'm stupid about it."

With a sigh, she settled down, closed her eyes, and willed her mind to empty.
Beside her, Roarke smiled into the dark.

He never slept first.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony in Death

“Eve: "Was that like a cookie?"

Roarke: "Hmmm?"

Eve: "You know, have a cookie. You'll feel better. Were you making me feel better?"

Roarke: "I certainly hope so, it worked for me. I wanted you. I always do."

Eve: "It's funny how men can wake up with their brains in their cocks."

Roarke: "It makes us what we are. Let's take a shower. I'll give you another cookie.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony in Death

“Peabody, you never cease to amaze me."
"One day I'll tell you about my granny and her five lovers."
"Five lovers isn't abnormal for a woman's lifetime."
"Not in her lifetime; last month. All at the same time." Peabody glanced up, deadpan. "She's ninety-eight. I hope to take after her.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony in Death

“By the way, Dallas?"

"What, Peabody?"

"That's a lovely tattoo. New?"

Eve clamped her teeth together, strode toward the door with as much dignity as she could manage. "See?" She jabbed a finger into Roarke's chest as they walked down the corridor. "I told you I'd be humiliated by that stupid rosebud."

"You've been drugged, slapped, tied up naked, and nearly killed, but a rose on your butt humiliates you?"

"All that other stuff's the job. The rosebud's personal."

Laughing, he swung his arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. "Christ, Lieutenant, I love you.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony in Death

“Christ, she missed him outrageously. Disgusted with herself, she ducked her head under the spray and let it pound on her brain.

When hands slipped around her waist, then slid up to cup her breasts, she barely jolted. But her heart leaped. She knew his touch, the feel of those long, slim fingers, the texture of those wide palms. She tipped her head back, inviting a mouth to the curve of her shoulder.

"Mmm. Summerset. You wild man."

Teeth nipped into flesh and made her chuckle. Thumbs brushed over her soapy nipples and made her moan.

"I'm not going to fire him." Roarke trailed a hand down the center of her body.

"It was worth a shot. You're back..." His fingers dipped expertly inside her, slick and slippery, so that she arched, moaned, and came simultaneously. "Early," she finished on an explosive breath. "God."

"I'd say I was just on time.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony in Death

“Pay up."

Eve rolled over, rubbed her bare butt, and wondered if she'd have rug burns. Still vibrating from the last orgasm, she closed her eyes again. "Huh?"

"Fifty credits." He leaned over, gently kissed the tip of her breast. "You lost, Lieutenant."

"I'm naked," she pointed out. "I don't generally keep credits up my -- "

"I'm happy to take your IOU." He rose, all graceful, gleaming muscles, and took a memo card from his console. "Here you are." Handed it to her.

She stared down at it, knowing dignity was as lost as the fifty credits. "You're really enjoying this."

"Oh, more than you can possibly imagine."

Scowling at him, she engaged the memo. "I owe you, Roarke, fifty credits, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve." She shoved the memo at him. "Satisfied."

"In every possible way." He thought, sentimentally, that he would tuck the memo away with the little gray suit button he'd kept from their very first meeting. "I love you, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, in every possible way.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony in Death

“I don't want to hear from Traffic that my husband was hotdogging the skyways in his minichopper."

"You won't. I bribe too well.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony in Death

“Since we're into witches, let's swing by and check out this Isis at Spirit Quest." She slid her eyes right. Well, maybe she'd rag just a little. "You can probably buy a talisman or some herbs," she said solemnly. "You know, to ward off evil."

Peabody shifted in her seat. Feeling foolish wasn't nearly as bad as worrying about being cursed. "Don't think I won't."

"After we deal with Isis, we can grab a pizza sub -- with plenty of garlic."

"Garlic's for vampires."

"Oh. We can have Roarke get us a couple of his antique guns. With silver bullets."

"Werewolves, Dallas." Amused at both of them now, Peabody rolled her eyes. "A lot of good you're going to do if we have to defend ourselves against witchcraft."

"What does it to witches, then?"

"I don't know," Peabody admitted. "But I'm damn sure going to find out.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony in Death

“She let her body go limp, moaned, and combed her fingers through his hair, ran them over his shoulders. "Your jacket," she murmured and tugged at it. When he shifted to shrug free, she had him.

It was a basic tenet of hand-to-hand. Never lower your guard. She scissored, shoved, and pinned him with a knee to the crotch and an elbow to the throat.

"You're tricky." He calculated he could dislodge the elbow, but the knee... There were some things a man didn't care to risk. He kept his eyes on hers and slowly, carefully skimmed his fingertips up her bare torso, circled her breast. "I admire that in a woman."

"You're easy." His thumb brushed lightly over her nipple, quickening her breath. "I admire that in a man."

"Well, you've got me now." He unsnapped her waistband, teased her stomach muscles to quiver. "Be kind."

She grinned, levered her elbow away to brace her hands on either side of his head. "I don't think so." Lowering her head, she caught his mouth with hers.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony in Death

“She took a small device out of her bag, slipped it into her pocket.

"Micro recorder?" Roarke clucked his tongue. "I believe that's illegal. Not to mention rude."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"And unnecessary," he added. He turned his wrist, tapped a tiny button on the side of his watch. "This one is much more efficient. I should know. I manufacture both brands." He smiled as the car stopped at the edge of a small clearing”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony in Death

“When it’s my turn, don’t do this. Recycle the parts, burn the rest.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony In Death

“Reaching into his pocket, he took out the amulet Isis had given him the night before, slipped it over Eve's neck.

"What's this for?"

"It looks better on you than me."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Bull. You're being superstitious."

"No, I'm not," he lied and set her plate in with his before he shifted and began to unbutton her shirt.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Passing the time." His hands, clever and quick, swooped down to take her breasts. "It'll take an hour to get there by car."

"I'm not having sex in the back of a limo," she told him. "It's -- "

"Delicious," he finished and replaced his hands with his mouth.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony in Death

“Drugs, sex, Satan, and power, Eve mused. A religious war? Hadn't humans fought and died for beliefs since the dawn of time? Animals fought for territory; people fought for territory as well. And for gain, for passion, for beliefs. For the hell of it.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony in Death

“Your wedding ring, Dallas.” With that quiet smile, Isis lifted Eve’s left hand. “It’s carved with an old Celtic design for protection.” Baffled, Eve studied the pretty etching in the slim gold ring. “It’s just a design.” “It’s a very specific and powerful one, to give the wearer protection from harm.” Amused, she raised her brows. “I see you didn’t know. Is it so surprising, really? Your husband has the blood of the Celts, and you lead a very precarious life. Roarke loves you very much, and you wear the symbol of it.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony In Death

“You’re embarrassed.” Her brow cleared in surprise and amusement. “You’re never embarrassed. By anything. This is weird. And kind of sweet.” “I’m not embarrassed.” Mortified, he decided, but not embarrassed. “I’m simply…not entirely comfortable explaining myself. I love you,” he said and stilled her muffled chuckle. “You risk your life, a life that’s essential to me, just by being who you are. This…” He brushed his thumb over her wedding band. “Is a small and very personal shield.” “That’s lovely, Roarke. Really. But you don’t really believe all that magic nonsense.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony In Death

“Your heart runs deep. It is…choosy. It is careful, but when it’s given, it’s complete.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony In Death

“Every religion should be open to questions and change.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony In Death

“It would be sheer hell to be privy to thoughts and memories without some power to control and block. I don’t like to pry into personal thoughts. And it hurts,”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony In Death

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. —Shakespeare”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony In Death

“I mean, when certain beliefs and traditions survive for centuries, there’s a reason for it.” “Sure there is, human beings are, and always have been, gullible. And there are, and always have been, individuals who know how to exploit that gullibility.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony In Death

“But where do you go to get away from what’s always there?”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony In Death

“When hands slipped around her waist, then slid up to cup her breasts, she barely jolted. But her heart leaped. She knew his touch, the feel of those long, slim fingers, the texture of those wide palms. She tipped her head back, inviting a mouth to the curve of her shoulder.

"Mmm. Summerset. You wild man."

Teeth nipped into flesh and made her chuckle. Thumbs brushed over her soapy nipples and made her moan.

"I'm not going to fire him." Roarke trailed a hand down the center of her body.

"It was worth a shot.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony in Death

“To demonstrate, she let her head fall back. Her eyes fluttered, her mouth went slack. Slowly, her arms lifted, palms turned up. “I feel a presence, strong, seeking, sorrowful.” Her voice had deepened, attained a faint accent. “There are dark forces working against you. They hide from you, wait to do harm. Beware.” She dropped her arms and grinned. “So, you tell the mark you need to have trust in order to offer protection from the dark forces. All they have to do is put say, a thousand cash—cash is all that works—in an envelope. Seal it. You make sure you tell them to seal it with this special wax you’re going to sell them. Then you’re going to do this cool chant over it, and bury the envelope in a secret place under the dark of the moon. After the moon’s cycled, you’ll dig up the envelope and give it back. The dark forces will have been vanquished.” “That’s it? People just hand over the money?” “Well, you string it out a little longer, do some research so you can hit them with names and events and shit. But basically, yeah. People want to believe.” “Why?” “Because life can really suck.”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony In Death

“shit assignments on.” “Your faith in me is touching, Dallas. Chokes me up.” She hissed at the computer. “Or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve got yellow sheets in here from five years ago that’s choking me. These should have been downloaded to the main and cleared out of your unit after twenty-four months.” “So download and clear now.” Eve’s smile widened as the machine hacked, then droned out a warning of system failure. “And good luck.” “Technology can be our friend. And like any friendship, it requires regular maintenance and understanding.” “I understand it fine.” Eve stepped”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony In Death

“Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and aide, Peabody,”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony In Death

“running”
― J.D. Robb, Ceremony In Death