“It must be sheer hell for you to be cursed with such a pretty boy's face," he drawled. "The agony of finding a different woman in your bed every night must wear you thin. I don't know where you get your stamina with this terrible burden you bear."The muscle in Ramsey's jaw flexed, which pleased Brodick considerably."We know you've had as many women in your bed as I have," Ramsey snapped. "But I meant what I said. There are more important matters to discuss.”

Julie Garwood

Julie Garwood - “It must be sheer hell for you to be...” 1

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“Are you going to keep her?""Yes.""Does she know it?""Not yet."Ramsey overheard the conversation and laughed heartily. "I assume you've considered all the problems, Brodick.""I have.""It won't be an easy life for her living with—" Ramsey began. Brodick finished his sentence for him."Living with the Buchanan clan. I know, and I worry about her adjustment."Ramsey grinned. "That's not what I was going to say. It won't be easy for her living with you. Rumor has it, you're a difficult man to be around."Brodick didn't take offense. "Gillian's aware of my flaws.""And she'll still have you?" Winslow asked."As a matter of fact, she has refused to marry me."Knowing Brodick as well as they did, both Ramsey and Winslow began to laugh again."So when's the wedding?" Ramsey asked.”

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“Only after the words were spoken did she realize what she had said. "My sins are all your fault, Brodick, and if I have to go to purgatory, then by God, you're going with me. Ramsey, if you do not stop laughing,I swear I shall toss you over this cliff.""Do you love him, lass?" Father asked."I do not," she answered emphatically."It isn't a requirement," Laggan pointed out."I should hope not," she cried."But it would make your life easier," he countered."Gillian, you will tell the truth," Brodick demanded.He grabbed hold of her hand. She tried to pull back, but he wouldn't let go."I have told the truth. I don't love Ramsey, and if he doesn't stop laughing at me, the Sinclairs will soon be looking for a new laird.""Not Ramsey," Laggan shouted so he could be heard over Ramsey's laughter. "I'm asking you if you love Brodick.""Did you tell Father I love you? Who else did you tell?”

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“Then it stands to reason that love doesn't make a man less than what he already is.""It makes him vulnerable.""Perhaps it does," Ramsey agreed."And if his mind is constantly consumed with thoughts of her, then he becomes weak. Is that not so?"Ramsey smiled. "I'll tell you what is so. You love her, Brodick, and that scares the hell out of you.""I should have broken your nose.”

Julie Garwood
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“What are my options?""You could read obscure poetry while I play the triangle, I suppose. Or we can smother ourselves in peanut butter and howl at the moon. Use your imagination.""Fine,"I said. "You take my hand and back up toward the bed.""Excellent choice. What then?""You sit down, and pull me down with you.""Where are you?" he asked."You pull me onto your lap.""Where are your legs?""Around your waist.""Well," Noah said, his voice slightly rough. "This is getting interesting. So I'm on the edge of your bed. I'm holding you on my lap as you straddle me. My arms are around you, bracing you there so you don't fall. What am I wearing?"..."What do you usually wear to bed?" I asked.Noah said nothing. I opened my eyes to an arched brow and a devious grin.Oh my God."Close. Your. Eyes," he said. I did. "Now, where were we?""I was straddling you," I said."Right. And I'm wearing...""Drawstring pants.""Those are quite thin, you know."I'm aware...."Right," he said. "So what are you wearing?""I don't know. A space suit. Who cares?""I think this should be as vivid as possible," he said. "For you," he clarified, and I chuckled. "Eyes closed," he reminded me. "I'm going to have to institute a punishment for each time I have to tell you.""What did you have in mind?""Don't tempt me. Now, what are you wearing?""A hoodie and drawstring pants too, I guess.""Anything underneath?""I don't typically walk around without underwear.""Typically?""Only on special occasions.""Christ. I meant under your hoodie.""A tank top, I guess.""What color?""White tank. Black hoodie. Gray pants. I'm ready to move on now."I felt him nearer, his words close to my ear. "To the part where I lean back and pull you down with me?"Yes."Over me," he said.Fuck."The part where I tell you that I want to feel the softness of the curls at the nape of your neck? To know what your hipbone would feel like against my mouth?" he murmured against my skin. "To memorize the slope of your navel and the arch of your neck and the swell of your-”

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“You know what, you need to stay out of my bedroom. You have your own.” He smiled. “I know I do. I see it quite often. I just prefer your bed. It smells better.” I made a face. “It smells better? What does your bed smell like? Regret and bad taste?”

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