I want him to burn for me, to not be able to go a day without touching me, holding me, caressing me. He'll be an excellent lover. I want a man who knows how to please me.

I'm getting the impression that women, in any form, scare you." He shrugged. "They're the more violent species. And unpredictable. I'd rather take on a wild boar. You can't shoot women.

He inhaled her scent, uncaring of the blood and dirt and grime that permeated her hair and clothing. He was holding her. Finally holding her. “You’re real. You’re real.” She pulled away, looked up at him, the same answering emotion shining in her blue eyes. With a groan, he lowered his mouth to hers. He couldn’t hold back. Nothing in the world would have kept him from kissing her in that moment. He was overcome.

I'm so exhausted and yet I feel like I'll never sleep again.

She smiled then, an adorable, sweet smile that took his breath away. He forgot all about trying to maintain an air of civility. His inner caveman came barreling out, grunting and pounding his chest and muttering unintelligible words.

God, you have a beautiful laugh, and your smile. Jesus, it knocks the breath out of me." "You can't talk to me like that, nobody says things like that to a woman he just met. It's insane." "I just did. And I plan to keep saying them until you believe every word.

What are the two of you whispering about?” Alaric demanded irritably. She glanced over to see the warrior watching her, his eyes narrow with suspicion. “If I wanted you to know, I’d have spoken louder,” she said calmly. He turned away muttering what she was sure were more blasphemies about annoying females. “You must make the priest weary with the length of your confessions,” she said. He raised one eyebrow. “Who says I confess anything?