I vow, is there no man who can talk about physical pleasures without exaggerating?

I need a bath." He chuckled. "You smell of smoke, as do I." The duke turned, leaning heavily on his cane. "Jameson, open the carriage door. We shall return to the house." Beth smiled up at Christian. "Shall we adjourn to the house to get some ointment for your hands and a bath, my love?" His eyes lit. "A bath?" Grandfather snorted. "Someone send to London for a special license! Now.

I've never found it helpful to treat fate with a gentle hand. Everytime I've stroked, hopin' fer a favor, she's slapped me hand and laughed at me. If ye want something, take fate by the throat and shake it out o' her.

Her honor will come to no harm at my hands,” Jack said. “’Tis not her honor but her tender heart that I worry about,” Alexander said. “She’s a delicate lass,” Hugh added. “Aye,” said Gregor. “A Scottish rose.” “Your tender, delicate rose had me ambushed, knocked unconscious, and forced to wed,” Jack ground out. “Facts you all know, if you’ve spoken to Hamish.” Dougal grinned, his teeth flashing whitely. “She has the devil’s own temper, our Fiona does.

I dinna think tis romantic when a man says he's willin' t' give his life fer the woman he loves. Give me instead a man who'd fight to keep us both alive and kickin'! There's naught rommantic about a dead man, beau or no.

As Jack began to climb the stairs, Fiona looked up at her new home. Five stories of stately mansion rose above her head. Heavy molding around the large windows and doors bespoke a quality and craftsmanship that was obvious even in the dim night. “Good God! It’s massive!” Jack paused with his foot on the last step. “I do wish you’d keep those comments until we are in bed, love. I would appreciate them all the more there.

You can get lost, pretending to be someone you're not.