“And then you snatched me from the ashes and stirred my dreams back to life.”

“Graham,” she warned,tight-lipped, as he carried her up the stairs. “I’ve a dagger with me. Do not force me to use it on you.”“Aim fer my heart first, lass,” he said, his gaze fixed and hard on hers. “Fer I think it has turned traitor on me.”His heart? Dear God, she did not want to kill him! And why would he say such a thing to her? What the hell did he mean? Did it have something to do with his being here alone instead of off somewhere rutting with a serving wench?”

“Woman, I've crushed more Campbells than ye'll ever know, and Ill go to my grave with a Campbell's heart clutched within my fingers.""Will that heart be mine, my laird?""It might.”

“Would she ever get used to the way his eyes tried to speak to her from beyond the darkness that plagued him?”

“Robert used to tell me it is not the victory but why a man fights the battle which makes him a hero”

“Lookin' at ye is like baskin' in the summer sun after a long, cold winter. 'Tis like seein' home after a battle that's left ye empty and alone." He kissed her mouth, her nose, her eyes. "I dinna' know how 'tis possible, but each time I see ye, ye grow more beautiful to me.”

“I am a cold hearted, ruthless bastard who sees what he wants and takes it. Is that not so?" He stepped closer to her, too close. His voice, no longer tender, was like the growl of a hungry wolf. "You think I don't want you." He ran his fingers over the pulse beat of her throat..."But I do.”