Cathy Maxwell

“With a glance over her shoulder to ensure no one saw them, she charged up the stairs. Mr. Aldercy fell into step behind her, and they hurried like schoolchildren afraid of being caught in a prank.However, at the top of the stairs, games stopped. He whisked her up the last step, twirled her around until her back was against the wall, and kissed her.”

“We were all that mattered back then, or have you forgotten? Do you not remember that night? How we stood beside the river and followed the Shawnee way? Do you remember what I whispered to you?"She shook her head, refusing to look at him. She tried to wrest her wrist free, but he held fast."You are lying," he accused quietly. "You can't forget.""How do you know?" she threw back at him.Alex smiled. "Because I can't," he admitted sadly.”

“She didn’t want to see the blow coming, but refused to take the coward’s way. She raised her lashes, meeting his gaze with a steady one of her own, even though her knees threatened to buckle from fear.“You’ve made me very angry, Miss Constance,” he said. “No one disrespects the name Lachlan. Not without paying a price.”And then he did something she had not anticipated.He kissed her.”

“Leah’s baby was nestled protectively in the crook of Devon’s arm.In the golden firelight, his expression appeared grim. The neck of his shirt was open, the sleeves rolled up. With a soft gasp of mother love, Leah reached for her child. But Devon’s deep, silky voice stopped her.“Who is the baby’s father? And do you love him?”She froze. Her mouth went dry. Her heart pounded in her chest.He waited.”

“She'd known many men in her life but this bear of a man with a lawyer's mind, an accountant's habits, and a knight's spirit outshone them all.”

“Because in the end, the measure of a well-lived life is not titles or riches. It’s not even measured by the people we please, especially at the cost of our own souls. No, the true measure of a well-lived life is how well we love…and how well we are loved in return.”