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36b772f
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"Buchan had discovered a wealth of small tidbits. He now knew her first name - Tatiana. Like Shakespeare's fairy queen. "Be she but little, she is fierce." --
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scottish-romance
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Karen Hawkins |
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6f024e0
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He slipped his tongue between her lips and thrust it wantonly inside her mouth over and over, echoing the enticing move of his hips against hers. She clutched him closer, reveling in the feel of him, and the fact that she'd made him moan for her, whisper her name over and over, beg her without words for more. To kiss him more. To touch him more.
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scottish-romance
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Karen Hawkins |
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77a11bc
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It was a chaste kiss, but as her lips brushed his warm cheek, her eyes met his. They were deep and dark, warm with passion and longing. And somehow she knew, without question, what he thought. What he felt. Time held its breath - and in that moment, looking into Buchan's warm, tormented gaze, Tatiana's heart awoke.
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scottish-romance
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Karen Hawkins |
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ddac6fd
|
With a hoarse moan, he swept her against him, kissing her wildly, passionately, his mouth promising and teasing, as if her kiss had broken the dam that had held back his passion.
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scottish-romance
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Karen Hawkins |
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738f618
|
"I had no idea," she panted, "that being ruined could be so invigorating." --
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scottish-romance
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Suzanne Enoch |
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4f85487
|
"Ye should see my massive claymore." "Oh, good heavens," Jane muttered from behind them. "What now?" he asked. "A claymore's a fine weapon, long and heavy, and a wonder when ye ken how to use it correctly." Abruptly Amelia-Rose didn't think they were talking about swords. "And you know how to use yours correctly?" "Aye. I'm something of an artist, ye might say. I'd like to show it to ye, lass."
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scottish-romance
|
Suzanne Enoch |
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acbc0c3
|
"Before she could face forward again, he caught her gaze with those impossibly light-green eyes of his. "Too late. I'm already charmed, adae. Whether ye dunnae wish me to tell ye so or not." And she was charmed, as well. If only he'd been the oldest MacTaggert. If only her mother wasn't mad for a title in the family. If only, if only, if only."
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scottish-romance
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Suzanne Enoch |
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dd3f060
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Because of you, I am me.
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scottish-romance
|
Suzanne Enoch |
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26f6fa9
|
"I didn't have much notice, either, and you don't see me stomping about or trying to encourage people to faint or cry." Oh, she likely shouldn't have said that, either. "Ye've a slightly better hold of yer temper than Coll does." "A dragon would seem to have an easier temper than your brother," she blurted, then put a hand over her mouth. What was wrong with her tonight? He snorted. "I cannae argue with that."
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scottish-romance
|
Suzanne Enoch |
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d75ece0
|
"David started up the wheeled stairs to the upper floors with his sword at the ready. He expected to encounter Blackadder warriors, protecting the lady of the castle. But there were none on the stairs and none guarding the door on the first floor. Damn it. She must have escaped. He gritted his teeth as he envisioned the lady's guards leading her through the tunnel. He was about to open the chamber door to make sure it was empty when Brian, one of his best men, came down the stairs. "Laird, I checked all the chambers while ye were in the hall," he said. David's jaw ached from clenching it. "There's one door on the floor just above us that wouldn't open with the latch," Brian said. "Shall I break it down?" David waved him aside and pulled the ax from his belt as he raced up the stairs. "Open it!" he shouted and pounded on the door. He did not wait. She could be escaping through a secret door this very moment. Three hard whacks with his ax, and the door split. He kicked it until it swung open, then stepped through. At his first sight of the woman, his feet became fixed to the floor. He felt strange, and his vision was distorted, as if as if he had swallowed a magical potion that narrowed his sight. He could see nothing in the room but her. She was extraordinarily lovely, with violet eyes, pale skin, and shining black hair. But there was something about her, something beyond her beauty, that held him captive. She was young, much younger than he expected, and her features and form were delicate, in marked contrast to the violent emotion in her eyes. David knew to the depths of his soul that a brute like him should not be the man to claim this fragile flower, even while the word mine beat in his head like a drum. He had no notion of how long he stood staring at her before he became aware that she held a sword. It was longer still before he noticed the two wee lasses peeking out from behind her like frightened kittens. Anger boiled up in his chest. Every Blackadder man in the castle who could still draw breath should have been here, standing between him and their lady. Instead, she faced him alone with a sword she could barely lift with both hands. It was a brave, but ridiculous gesture. There was no defense against him."
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scottish-romance
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Margaret Mallory |