Made­lyne, I would like to speak to you in pri­vate after din­ner." "Speak to me about what?" Made­lyne de­manded with a dis­grun­tled look. "Men and their horses," Dun­can told her

I love historical romance, absolutely love it.

Every man has a weakness!” he patiently explained. “I'll find theirs, I promise you.” “Every man?” “Yes,” he answered emphatically. ... “What is your weakness, Brodick?” she asked. “You.

She surprised him by agreeing. "Yes, I was simply curious, and no, I would never criticize you in front of your followers. Do you have the patience to endure one more question, husband?" "What is it?" "When do you suppose you'll leave me behind?

What are you doing?" "What I've wanted to do for a long time." She couldn't move, couldn't think. She was lost in his dark eyes, and as he slowly lowered his head toward hers, she whispered, "Are you going to throttle me, then?" He was laughing when he kissed her.

In a low whisper she was certain only her friend could hear, she said, "I specifically remember we both promised never to drink from any man's goblet of wine. From the looks of you, Frances Catherine, I'm thinking you broke your word.

You're bruised, as ugly as one of your Cyclops, and I can barely stand to look at you." - Duncan to Madelyne.