“I do want you Ramsey Bridges," she told him as a matter-of-fact. "And you shall have me whenever you like.”
“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?”
“As a matter of fact, she has refused to marry me.”“So when's the wedding?” Ramsey asked.”
“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.”
“Have you ever done any running or jogging?” Hawk asked.[...]“I walk,” she told him. “I’ve never had any desire to run or jog.”“Why not? Don’t you like to sweat?”“As a matter of fact, I don’t.” She smiled. “Besides, Southern ladies never sweat. We don’t even perspire.”“Then what the hell do you do?”“We glow.”
“Do you want to just fuck me in front of all your friends? Because all you seem to be doing is fucking me over Ramsey.”