“The count said in careful English, "That was perhaps not, as you English say, very sporting.""Games are played to win," Cameron said. "And we're Scottish.”

“I'm not a bloodhound, your lordships.""Woof, woof," Cameron said, giving Fellows an evil grin. "Good dog.”

“Why is she so stubborn? And disobedient?” Cameron barked a laugh. “Because Mackenzies always choose headstrong women. You didn’t really expect her to obey you, did you? No matter what the marriage vows say?”

“What does that word mean?" Cassidy asked. Her voice was soft, sexy. Mind-blowing. "Querida, or whatever you said? I don't speak Spanish.""It's a term of endearment. An Anglo might say darling or honey.""What was the other one you used? Me ha?"Mi ja. Short for mi hija. It's what you say to someone you care about."She smiled. "When you say that you sound ---I don't know---affectionate.""Maybe I like cats," Diego said.Cassidy rested her hand on his chest, and her smile widened. "Meow.”

“We don't fit in, you and me," he said. "We're both oddities no one knows what to do with. But we fit together." He took her hand, pressed her palm to his, then laced their fingers through each other's. "We fit.”

“...Illegitimate children can be left money, but they can't inherit the peerage.""You wouldn't want it," Cameron put in. "More trouble than it's worth. And for God's sake, don't murder Hart or I'm next.”

“You are very cross tonight, Hart. Perhaps the lady disappointed you."Hart stared at her over the glass he'd started to raise. "What lady?""The one whose perfume you positively reak of."His brows went up."You mean the Countess von Hohenstahlen? She's eighty-two and drenches herself in scents that would make a tart blush."Oh.”