Do you have feelings for this kind man?" "You shouldn't ask her such a question," Frances Catherine said. "But do you, Gillian?

He held her gaze steady while he summarized her promises. “She will honor me, protect me, obey me only when she believes I’m being reasonable—but I shouldn’t hold out hope that that day will ever come—try to love me before she’s an old woman, and I’d better get it straight in my mind that she will respect me until or unless I do something to prove I’m not worthy, and God save me then. Have I left anything out, Brenna?

Lyon knew she wasn't aware she was being watched, either. She wouldn't have eaten the leaf otherwise, or reached for another. “Sir, which one is Princess Christina?” Andrew asked Lyon, just as Rhone started in choking on his laughter. Rhone has obviously been watching Christina, too. “Sir?” “The blond-headed one,” Lyon muttered, shaking his head. He watched in growing disbelief as Christina daintily popped another leaf into her mouth. “Which blond-headed one?” Andrew persisted. “The one eating the shrubs.

Still, they were two thorns from the same thistle. Their tactics in terrorizing innocent ladies were identical. Their behavior was downright sinful, but what made it even worse was the fact that neither warrior seemed to realize the effect he had on others.

Let go of me or slow down," she demanded as she tried to keep pace with him. He slowed down. "I swear to God, you try the patience of a saint." "You aren't a saint, Brodick, no matter what your mother might have told you.

Gabrielle turned to Colm. “These men will be of interest to you.” Colm looked them over. “Why is that?” he asked. With her back to the infidels, she whispered, “They like to dig holes.

I love you. We’re getting married, and that’s the way it is. Get used to it.