“I'll no' love ye, Kate Campbell. No' ever.”

“Margaret quirked her lips, looking much like the imp their mother used to call her. "What flower would ye pick for Katherine Campbell?" Callum snorted. "I wouldna pick flowers." "Ye let her take a bite out of ye." Maggie looked up at him, then cut him off when he opened his mouth to speak. "Ye fancy her. What flower would ye pick for her?" "Tulips," he mumbled, ignoring her knowing smirk.”

“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.”

“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.”

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

“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.”

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