“What have you stuffed in your pants, MacKeltar?" she demanded."Nothing that wasn't God-given," he replied stiffly.Gwen stared. "There's no way that's part of you. You must have gotten a sock or something stuck. Oh, my." She pried her gaze from his groin.”

“Then you will simply have to see for yourself. Touch me, lass. Feel my ...sock." His silver gaze sizzled with challenge, as he unzipped his zipper.Uh-uh." She shook her head for added emphasis.Then find me a pair of trews that doona threaten to sever my manparts.”

“A smirk curved its sensual lips. "But then, women never have been able to keep their eyes off me.""Oh, you are so arrogant. I just couldn't figure out if you were a fairy or not," Gabby snapped.A dark eyebrow arched. "And you thought the answer to that question might be found in my pants? That's why you were looking there?" Its dark gaze shimmered with amusement."The only reason I looked there," she said, flushing, "was because I couldn't believe you would just so blatantly... re-rearrange your— your..." She trailed off, then hissed, "What is it with men? Women don't do things like that! Move their... their personal parts about in public.""Mores the pity. I, for one, would find it quite fascinating".Its gaze dropped to her breasts.”

“You told me i was your world.It wasn't me. I was an animal." My heart pounded. My cheeks burned. You never wanted it to end. "Why are you being such a jackass, slamming me in the face with my own humiliation?"Humilation? That's what you call this? He forced a more detailed reminder on me. I swallowed. Yes, I certainly remembered that. "I was out of my mind. I‘d never have done it otherwise." Really, his dark eyes mocked, and in them I was demanding more, telling him I wanted it to always be this way. I remembered what he'd replied: that one day I would wonder if it was possible to hate him more.”

“Her eyes narrowed, and her lips parted around a knowing laugh. "Oh. It's you.""Pardon?" He was taken aback. "Do we know each other, lass?" He was quite certain they didn't; he could never haveforgotten this woman. The enticing manner in which her lips were currently pursed would have been seared into hismemory."The answer is no. I don't know you. But every other woman in this room does. Duncan Douglas, isn't it?" she said dryly.Duncan studied her face. Although she was young-perhaps no more than twenty-she had a regal bearing beyond her years. "I do have some reputation with the lasses," he conceded, downplaying his prowess, confident of her impending maidenly swoon.The look she gave him was far from admiring. He did a double take when he realized her gaze was downright disparaging."Not something I care for in a man," she said coolly. "Thank you for your offer, but I'd sooner dance with last week's rushes. They would be less used. Who wants what everyone else has already had?" The words were deliveredin a cool, modulated tone, shaped by an odd accent he couldn't place. Quite finished with him, she presented herback and resumed talking to her companion.Duncan was immobilized by shock.”

“I am so lonely without you, Aedan," Jane said simply."You truly want me?""More than anything. I'm only half without you.""Then you are my woman." His words were finality, a bond he would not permit broken. She had given herself to his keeping. He would never let her go."And you'll never leave me?" she pressed."I'll stay with you for all of ever, lass."Jane's eyes flared, and she looked at him strangely. "And then yet another day?" she asked breathlessly."Oh, aye.”

“Swallowing hard, she looked at him.He raised his eyes from the frothy concoction on his spoon at the precise moment she looked up, and their gazeslocked over the length of the polished wood table. Where would you drip whipped cream on him, Lisa? The answercame with frightening swiftness and conviction: Everywhere. She wanted to explore his body, the hard ripples, the smooth skin. The candlelight bathed his olive skin with a golden hue, and his dark good looks were set off perfectly by his linen shirt and the splash of black and crimson draped across his chest. He was mesmerizing."Are you hungry, lass?" He licked his spoon languidly. She couldn't tear her gaze away. "No. I've eaten quiteenough," she managed."You seem to be watching my dessert most intently. Are you certain there isn't something else you wish to sate your appetite?"Besides you to remove your clothing, lie on the table, and let me finger paint you with whipped cream, you mean?"Nope," she said casually. "Not a thing." She watched him for a moment; he still had a great deal of dessert left. How was she going to get through this?”