Highlander Romance Quotes

“I don't think I believe in villains. Heroes either. Just people. People with agendas and the things they're willing to do to get what they want.”
― Kerrigan Byrne, The Scot Beds His Wife

“His knee pressed between her legs then, rubbing against her and making her cry out into his mouth, and he did it again with the same result. Then his leg shifted and his hand replaced it, his fingers gliding through the folds to find her most sensitive spot.
Claray stilled briefly, and then begun to suck frantically on his tongue as he began to rub his fingers gently over, then around, the treasure he'd found. Within moments she was panting, and writhing beneath him, some fine string inside her body tightening as taut as a bow. So caught up was she in that feeling that she hardly noticed when he broke their kiss and began sliding down her body, his mouth grazing over one breast and the other and then licking and nipping his way down across her stomach.
She was vaguely aware of him urging her legs to open wider, so that he could settle between them. However, it wasn't until his fingers stopped their caressing and his head dipped down between her spread legs that she took notice. She was glancing down with confusion when he nuzzled his face between her thighs and lashed her most sensitive area with his tongue. When Claray gasped and bucked in shock, Conall grasped her upper thighs to hold her in place and pressed his mouth between her legs again.
For one moment, she was too stunned to feel anything else as he began to caress the sensitive nub with his tongue, and then suckled at the lips around it. But that soon passed as her body responded to his hungry feasting. It was like nothing she'd ever experienced before, nothing she'd even imagined, It was all so raw and carnal and overwhelming and she didn't know what to do. Claray was quite sure this was not something the church would approve of. He could not give her his seed like this. This was---
"Oh God," she gasped, her thoughts scattering on the breeze as he began to suck on the most sensitive part of her. And then it became a mantra. "Oh God, oh God, oh God."
She felt his finger push into her, and struggled against the hands holding her, wanting to move her hips, though she had no idea why, and couldn't with him holding her down. He was still caressing her with his mouth even as he withdrew the finger. He then pushed in again and again until something inside of Claray snapped and she cried out breathlessly, her body suddenly thrashing as pleasure overwhelmed her.”
― Lynsay Sands, Highland Wolf

“When he ground against her through the bunched-up material of her gown, she cried out into his mouth and drew her knees up on either side of his hips to lift herself into the caress. She was almost mad with need, and didn't protest when she felt him tug her gown over her hips and push it down her legs.
When one hand clasped her behind and held her in place as he ground against her again, she wrapped her legs around him and groaned. The Wolf squeezed the cheek of her bottom almost painfully in response, and slid his hand between them to drag the hem of her shift up to her waist. When his hand then slid between her legs to touch her unimpeded by cloth, Claray froze in shock. Her legs instinctively tried to close, but his hips held them open and then his fingers began to move.
Continuing to kiss her, he rubbed and circled the center of her pleasure, driving the sudden anxiety out of her and replacing it with an excitement and need like none she'd ever known. Soon Claray found her heels digging into the river's sandy bottom, lifting her hips into the caress in a mindless search for something she didn't understand but knew was almost in reach. Her entire body grew taut and began a fine trembling, and she simply couldn't manage to return his kisses anymore. Instead, she simply kept her mouth open, accepting his kiss as her attention focused on what she sensed was coming.”
― Lynsay Sands, Highland Wolf

“The small moan she released into his mouth made him smile, and kiss her more deeply. After several moments he shifted his mount's reins to his left hand to free his right to caress her. His eager fingers went straight to her breast to knead briefly before focusing on her nipple.
Much to his satisfaction, Claray gasped and arched into the caress when he pinched and teased the sensitive tip as he'd wanted to do. Her response to his touch was most gratifying. Her kiss became frantic, and she squirmed in his lap, her bottom unintentionally rubbing against him in a most exciting manner.
Eager for the moans and mewls of pleasure he'd drawn from her in the river, Conall released her nipple and let his hand drift down over the swaddled fox and below to press between her legs through the plaid she wore.
When Claray immediately broke their kiss on a gasp, he pressed more firmly, then claimed her lips again and thrust his tongue into her mouth as he began to rub her through the heavy cloth, eliciting those groans and mewls he'd wanted.
She was so damed responsive to him it made him ache, and if it weren't for the fact that he had Payton, Roderick, Hamish and two hundred warriors at his back, he'd have ridden into the woods, dragged her to the ground, thrown up her skirts and sunk himself into her. As Payton had said, bedding her every night and filling her belly with a bairn or nine would be no hardship at all, and where before Conall had thought he wouldn't care if her father decided to break the betrothal and find her someone else to wed, the idea was now anathema to him. He wanted her for himself. He wanted to sink himself into her wet heat and stay there for a week. The only way to do that though was to claim and marry her. Oddly enough, that suddenly didn't seem a bad idea.”
― Lynsay Sands, Highland Wolf

“Me pleasure," he murmured, nuzzling through her hair to press a kiss to the side of her neck.
"Mmm," Claray murmured, and tilted her head to the side to better expose her neck as the brief caress sent tingles of awareness through her body.
"God's teeth, ye smell good, lass," Conall growled, his hands rubbing up and down her arms as he kissed her neck again and then nibbled at the tender flesh.
Claray opened her mouth to thank him for the compliment, but then gasped as his hands suddenly left her arms to slide around in front and cup her breasts.
"Ye feel good too," he muttered, kneading the suddenly tender flesh and biting her neck lightly, then sucking on the spot briefly before growling, "Give me yer lips, lass."
Claray turned her head back and up, opening to him when he claimed her mouth. His tongue thrust in at once, even as he pushed his hips forward, grinding himself against her bottom through their clothes so that she could feel that he was hard for her. Groaning, she reached back to grasp his hips in response, and kissed him eagerly back. Then gasped and groaned again when one of his hands dropped from her breast to slide between her legs and began to caress her through her skirt even as he pressed her bottom more firmly against his erection.
Breaking their kiss, Claray twisted her head against his shoulder and gasped, "Husband!"
"Aye," he growled, pressing the cloth between the lips of her nether region and caressing her more directly.”
― Lynsay Sands, Highland Wolf

“Claray started to turn away, but then stopped and whirled back to give him a quick kiss, then promptly blushed at the spontaneous action when his eyebrows flew up.
"Wives kiss husbands when they part," she muttered to cover her embarrassment, and headed away, only to have him catch her arm and draw her back.
"That was no' a proper kiss," he announced solemnly, and then commenced to show her his version, which left her breathless and flushed when he released her and walked back to the men.”
― Lynsay Sands, Highland Wolf

“I am a MacDonald chief, powerful, connected, and sly when I need to be. I can protect ye and yer son both. Avenge ye, if need be. Tell me what causes ye such sorrow. Let me aid ye.”
― Maeve Greyson, Saving Her Highland Traitor

“It was much nicer sitting in his lap. She was surrounded by him, cocooned by the hard lap beneath her and the warm chest and arms around her. Relaxing against the arm at her back, she slid her own arms around his neck again, careful to avoid the sore spot on the back of his head as she kissed him enthusiastically. Evelinde shuddered and pressed against him as his hands slid over her back, and then gasped and arched as his hand moved around to find and clasp one breast through her damp chemise. Clutching at the cloth of his plaid, Evelinde groaned into his mouth and held on for dear life as he kneaded the round orb, and was inundated by a whole new swell of sensations.
When his thumb brushed over the excited nipple through the cloth, it sent shocks of pleasure through her, and she couldn't keep from wiggling in his lap. Her hips moved off their own volition as they ground her bottom down against the hardness under her.
This seemed to have an electrifying effect on the Duncan, his kiss immediately became more demanding. The hand at her back shifted to her head to tilt her one way, then the other as the fingers at her breast tightened and began to pluck at her nipple through the quickly drying cloth.
This time Evelinde turned her head to give him better access when his mouth moved to her ear once more. His attention there soon had her gasping and moaning. Other than to dig her fingers more firmly into his shoulders, she hardly noticed when he leaned her back against his arm so his mouth could travel down her neck. His hand was still doing delightful things to first one breast, then the other, and that, combined with his lips nibbling over the flesh of her throat, had her giving one long, seemingly unending moan. By the time he reached the shockingly sensitive area of her collarbone, she was a mass of excitement, wiggling in his lap in response to the liquid heat now pooling in her lower belly.
So distracted was she, Evelinde didn't realize he had tugged aside the top of her chemise, revealing one breast, until his lips suddenly left her collarbone and dipped to close over the naked nipple.
She cried out then with both shock and excitement and tugged frantically at his plaid as he suckled and drew on the nipple, his tongue flicking over it repeatedly.
Evelinde knew she shouldn't be allowing this. She was betrothed to someone else. Even if she hadn't been, however, as an unmarried lady, she shouldn't be allowing it... but it felt so good.”
― Lynsay Sands, Devil of the Highlands

“It wouldn't have done to return with his cock making a tent in his plaid. Which is what it had been doing when he'd left Claray. Fortunately, it had calmed down and deflated during the trek back. Unfortunately, his emotions hadn't calmed down along with it.
Conall's thoughts were in utter chaos at the moment. Half of his mind was recalling how sweet Claray had tasted when he kissed her. How her moans and mewls and gasps of pleasure had excited him. How her kisses, though inexpert at first, had quickly become as hungry and demanding as his own. How her nails had dug into the skin of his back and shoulders as she urged him on. And how her body had responded to his touch, her nipples pebbling, her body writhing and rising to meet his caresses. The feel of her warm slick excitement as he'd delved between her legs to caress her had almost driven him mad with the need to plunge into all that wet heat. He still wanted to.”
― Lynsay Sands, Highland Wolf

“Claray had not been made to spend her life on her knees in prayer. The lass had too much passion in her for that. So, he would marry her, reclaim his name, title and home and set to work filling her belly with bairns.
The thought made him smile, and imagining all the ways to accomplish the task of filling her belly, all the positions and places he could do so, helped pass the time as they continued their ride through the long day and the evening that followed.”
― Lynsay Sands, Highland Wolf

“Her protests died in her throat as Conall suddenly covered her mouth with his in a searing kiss that made her forget the long list of reasons that were lining up in her head for why they shouldn't marry here and now. That wasn't all she forgot either. She forgot that her father stood beside her, that hundreds of soldiers surrounded them and, worst of all, that Father Cameron stood just feet away, witness to her horrible, sinning ways when she melted against Conall, wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed and moaned as he devoured her mouth.
When Conall's hands slid down her back, pressing her body firmly against his and then curved under her bottom and lifted her off the ground, Claray instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips, then gasped into his mouth as he began to walk, his body rubbing against her core with each step.”
― Lynsay Sands, Highland Wolf

“Ye may kiss me again if ye like, husband, for I promise to enjoy it."
"Do ye now?" he asked with a faint smile. Then bent to nip at her ear before trailing his lips down her neck.
"Aye," she breathed, squirming against his body in the water. It wasn't the kiss she'd meant, but this was nice too.
"And do ye like this?" he asked, his voice a husky growl as one hand covered her breast underwater and began to knead. "Or this?" His other hand pressed against her bottom as he moved closer to the stairs, so that she rode lower in the water and her groin rubbed against his.
"Oh, aye," she moaned, arching her back and wrapping her legs around his hips so that their bodies rubbed together more firmly.
The action earned her another kiss, this one hot and demanding as he carried her out of the water and up the steps.”
― Lynsay Sands, Highland Wolf

“Do ye often howl at wolves?"
"Only Lovey," Claray answered. "He's the only wolf I ken."
"Ye ken Conall, and he's the Wolf."
"Aye," Conall agreed aloud, and then leaned down to whisper by her ear, "And ye howled for me on our weddin' night. Hopefully this night I can make ye howl again. Finally."
Claray stiffened in surprise and then felt heat suffuse her face as his hand crept up her waist where it was resting, and his thumb brushed over the bottom of one breast.”
― Lynsay Sands, Highland Wolf

“I can hardly believe neither o' ye were shot through with the arrow. I thought ye'd both died when we heard yer screams, they were that pain-filled and anguished."
Claray stiffened, her eyes widening, and then felt herself going hot with a blush as she realized what screams Kenna was referring to. She and Conall had only screamed once each, when they'd both found their pleasure that last time. Good Lord, everyone had come running because of how loud she and Conall had been. Not that she was sorry they'd come. They'd needed their help, but how humiliating would it have been if they'd all come running and found them lying in each other's arms, recovering from the loving?”
― Lynsay Sands, Highland Wolf

“I have trouble thinkin' o' ye as Bryson," she admitted apologetically. "Ye seem more a Conall to me."
"Why?" he asked with interest as he moved a pawn on the board.
"Weeell." She drew out the word and then pointed out, "Conall means strong wolf."
"And ye like wolves," he teased.
Claray glanced to where Lovey was asleep on the bed next to them with Squeak curled up on his back, and smiled faintly. "Aye. I do." Turning back to him, she admitted, "But ye also do seem strong to me. And as a mercenary ye were known as the Wolf. So, it just seems to suit.”
― Lynsay Sands, Highland Wolf

“A man needed a clear mind to fight his foe, not one distracted with thoughts of whether the fishpond might please his wife. Or who found himself mooning about how she was a hard worker, and so kind-hearted. Or thinking on how her laugh was high and full of joy and made him want to smile. Or daydreaming on how sweet her kisses were, and how good it felt to bury his cock in her warm body. Or wondering whether she might care for him as he'd come to realize he cared for her.”
― Lynsay Sands, Highland Wolf

“My sweeting is nice," Claray commented.
"Nay," Conall said quickly, and when she looked at him with surprise, he tried to cover his horror at the thought of being called that, by saying, "I'd rather call ye that and we can no' both use it."
"Oh," she breathed, seeming pleased at the idea of his calling her that.
He made a mental note to use it, and to come up with other endearments to please her. Flower, perhaps. Or petal, to reflect how beautiful and precious he found her.”
― Lynsay Sands, Highland Wolf

“She had no desire to see Conall dead. She loved him.
That was a thought that caught her by surprise. Claray had liked Conall from the start, admired his sense of honor and determination to look after his people. She also appreciated all he had done for her, rescuing her from Kerr, carrying her before him on his mount while she slept, no matter that he was exhausted. He'd also been most patient with her rescuing animals at every turn on the way home to MacFarlane when she'd known he hadn't wanted her to. He was a good man----he worked day and night here to build a home for them all, and he'd tended to her when she was injured and ill with such gentleness and kindness. And then there was his loving.
Aye, at first Claray had worried that her soul might be in peril because of the pleasure he gave her, but she'd come to terms with that. It was just too beautiful and intimate to be something God would begrudge them. Surely, if He hadn't wanted them to enjoy each other like that, He wouldn't have made it possible for people to enjoy it as they did. At least that was her reasoning. Perhaps it was just a justification to allow her to continue to enjoy her marital bed without guilt, but since she found it impossible not to, she was happy to accept that justification.
Whatever the case, with all that she admired, respected and enjoyed about her husband, Claray supposed it would be surprising if she did not love him. Conall was a man worth loving, and she simply could not bear the thought of this man ending his life.”
― Lynsay Sands, Highland Wolf

“Are you troubled by me making ye enjoy it?"
Claray flushed, but admitted honestly, "I was at first. But I've resigned meself to it."
"Resinged yerself?" he asked with concern. "Should I stop---?"
"Nay!" Claray interrupted quickly, and then scowled. "Do no' you dare stop. I love the pleasure ye give me, and if 'tis wrong, then I'll happily serve me time in hell fer it."
"Ye will, will ye?" he asked with a faint smile.
Claray nodded, and then added, "But I do' think the church is right about this. I love ye, and the loving is an expression of that. 'Tis beautiful and precious." Pausing, she smiled slightly, and added, "Besides, ye ordered me to enjoy it, and Father Cameron did make me vow to obey ye. I can hardly be punished fer keeping vows the church made me make."
The concern easing from his face, Conall chuckled and hugged her close. "I do love ye, Claray. Yer beautiful, and clever, and sure to drive me mad and scare me witless at times. But I'd have it no other way."
"Neither would I, husband," Claray murmured, hugging him back. "Neither would I.”
― Lynsay Sands, Highland Wolf

“There,” she heard him say with satisfaction, and the plaid slipped off and into his hands.
“Oh, my,” she said a little faintly.”
― Fenna Edgewood, Lady Briar Weds the Scot

“It hurt to look at him. Hurt to know he wanted her but would not risk the pain of heartbreak a second time.
Well, Briar Blakeley had already lost her heart to her husband. And she would be damned if she was going to be the only one in this marriage to do so.”
― Fenna Edgewood, Lady Briar Weds the Scot

“Briar waved a hand and gave a tinkling happy laugh. He flinched. This was unbearable. The lass was as fresh and pretty as a daisy and seemed just as oblivious to her own charms as a garden flower was, too.
She smelled much better than a daisy, however. Daisies were highly overrated flowers. When you got up close to one, they smelled disappointingly like manure. No, Briar Blakeley smelled like something delicious. Like something you wouldn’t mind popping straight into your mouth. Like cake baked with vanilla and cinnamon. Or a confectionary’s shop.
She was sweet as honey, probably twice as naive, and something about her was making his blood pound and his loins tighten. The sooner he could get rid of her the better.”
― Fenna Edgewood

“Are you mad?” Briar gasped. “I’m not going to marry either of you!” She shook her head frantically. “I have no plans to marry in the immediate future. I most certainly will not limit my prospects to… to… Well, I’m sorry Percy, but…”
“Me?” Percy retorted. He pointed across the carriage. “What about him? He’s a gardener! You can’t tell me you prefer him to me.”
“Neither of us are ideal suitors,” Wren said firmly. “I am sure on that Percy and I can agree.”
“Well, I certainly—” Percy began, only to be silenced by a glare from Wren. He pursed his lips.
“But yer prospects, I’m afraid, Lady Briar, are limited to the men in this carriage. Or I suppose ye could extend yer field of choice to the men riding with us. Though some are sure to be married already. Angus, for one.”
“Angus!” Briar exclaimed. “I have no wish to marry Mr. Macleod, thank you very much. Not that he isn’t a good man in his way, I’m sure,” she added hastily.
“Oh, yes,” Percy said dryly. “He has only kidnapped you and Mr. Spencer here, then gone back on his word to me. He’s sure to make you a wonderful husband.”
“Shut up, Percy,” Briar snapped. “I am not taking a husband.”
“Ye shall, and ye must,” Wren said tersely. “It’s no’ a matter of wanting or no’ wanting. Ye’ve been placed in a terrible position, Lady Briar. What would yer brother say?”
“He’d likely just shoot first and talk later,” Briar said sweetly. “And in this case, I might not blame him. I have reached the point in our journey where I should like nothing more than to be taken back home. Preferably immediately.”
― Fenna Edgewood, Lady Briar Weds the Scot

“However, it seemed his tormentor was leaning over him, because he found himself grabbing at something else entirely. Two somethings... that were covered with a soft, damp cloth, were roundish in shape, soft yet firm at the same time, and had little pebble-like bumps in the center, he discovered, his fingers shifting about blindly. Absorbed as he was in sorting out all these details, he didn't at first hear the horrified gasps that were coming from beyond the cloth over his head.
"Sorry," Cullen muttered as he realized he was groping a woman's breasts.”
― Lynsay Sands, Devil of the Highlands

“Cullen merely sighed and nuzzled into the breasts presently cuddling him. Really, damp though they were, they were quite lovely, and if a man had to be smothered to death, this was not a bad way to go. He felt something hard nudging his right cheek beside his mouth and realized her nipples had grown hard. She also suddenly stilled like prey sensing danger. Not wishing to send her running with fear, he opened his mouth and tried to turn his head to speak a word or two of reassurance to calm her.
"Calm yerself," was what he said. Cullen didn't believe in wasting words. However, it was doubtful if she understood what he said since his words came out muffled by the nipple suddenly filling his open mouth. Despite his intentions not to scare her, when he realized it was a nipple in his mouth, he couldn't resist closing his lips around it and flicking his tongue over the linen-covered bud.”
― Lynsay Sands, Devil of the Highlands

“Evelinde's thoughts died as she saw that her still-damp chemise was transparent. She could clearly make out several dark patches through the clinging cloth. One was the large mottling bruise on her hip, the other another even bigger bruise on her ribs, but the others were not bruises at all. Her darker nipples were clearly displayed in the damp shift, and the dark gold at the apex of her thighs stood out against her pale skin.
A gasp of horror caught in her throat, but before Evelinde could pull away and cover herself, he'd taken hold of her arm.
"And here."
She peered distractedly down at the arm he'd turned slightly. She had seen all these bruises earlier, the result of her tumble in the river, not from falling from her horse as he supposed. She was more concerned with other issues at the moment, like her near nudity. When he leaned a little closer to see her upper arm better, Evelinde sucked in a startled gulp of air. His breath was blowing hot and sweet on her chilled nipple through the damp chemise. The effect was almost shocking.
Evelinde stood completely still, holding her breath as he examined her injury. He took an exceptionally long time doing so, much longer than he had with the other bruises. And the whole time he did, he was inhaling and exhaling, sending out warm puffs of air over the trembling nipple. Each time he did, an odd little tingle went through Evelinde. Then he suddenly raised a hand to run a finger lightly around the discoloration on her arm, and his wrist brushed against her nipple through the damp cloth.
Evelinde was sure it was accidental, and he did not even notice, but the effect it had on her was rather startling. She closed her eyes as an odd pleasure rolled through her body, finding herself suddenly torn between putting some space between them and staying put to enjoy more of the astonishing effect he had on her. When he finally released her arm and unclasped her legs, she opened her eyes to find him standing up. Before Evelinde could regain enough of her senses to go find her gown and draw it on to cover herself, he'd clasped her head in one hand and tilted her face up to his as she brushed his finger lightly in a circle along her left jaw.
"Ye've another here," he growled.
"Oh," Evelinde breathed, as his finger apparently followed the edge of the bruise past the corner of her lips. That, too, was from her fall in the river, but she couldn't seem to untangle her tongue enough to say so as his finger trailed over her skin.
"Ye've beautiful eyes, lass," he murmured, peering into those eyes now rather than at the injury he was tracing.
"So do you," Evelinde whispered before she could think better of it.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips right before his mouth covered hers.
Evelinde stiffened at the unexpected caress. His lips were soft yet firm, but kissing her was wholly inappropriate. She was about to say so when something prodded at her lips. Evelinde tried to pull back, but his hand was at the back of her head, preventing her retreat. Suddenly she found her mouth invaded by his tongue.
Her first instinct was to push him away, but then his tongue rasped along hers, and Evelinde stilled again. The caress was surprisingly pleasant. She found herself holding onto his arms rather than pushing him away, and her eyes closed as a little sigh slipped from her mouth to his.”
― Lynsay Sands, Devil of the Highlands

“Everyone feared the Devil, she thought, then stilled again as he began to nuzzle the side of her neck.
Her breath caught in her throat at the havoc sent rioting through her. Evelinde found her eyes drooping closed again, and a murmur of surprised pleasure slipped from her lips as she tilted her head to allow him better access. She even shifted a little closer to the man, her hands now clutching at his arms and urging him nearer rather than pushing him away. All sorts of tingly sensations were rushing through her as his mouth moved over her skin to her ear. He concentrated there until Evelinde found herself standing on her tiptoes in the circle of his arms, gasping and moaning.
His mouth finally returned to hers, and this time, she was not quiescent. Evelinde kissed him back, her tongue now wrestling with his. His hands began to move then, releasing the hold he'd kept on her head and sliding down her back until they slid over her bottom. Clasping the curve of each cheek, he lifted her off her feet and pressed her against him.
Evelinde groaned into his mouth as a hardness ground against the apex of her thighs through their clothes. It sent a sharp new excitement shooting through her, and she found herself shifting her hips and tightening her arms around his neck as she tried to get closer still.”
― Lynsay Sands, Devil of the Highlands

“She was afire with passions she'd never even imagined existed, her body reacting of its own volition as it pressed and rubbed against him, seeking something she didn't understand.
The excitement he was causing in her was a living thing that built and built until Evelinde couldn't bear it anymore. Only then did the Duncan let her nipple slip from his mouth with one last rasp of the tongue and lift his head to cover her mouth again. If his earlier kiss had been passionate and demanding, it was nothing compared to this one. He wielded his tongue like a weapon, thrusting it into her mouth as if thrusting a sword into an opponent. Evelinde welcomed it and parried with her own.
His hand was again at her bare breast, fingers cupping and squeezing as his thumb rubbed back and forth over the sensitive nub. Evelinde groaned and found herself squeezing her thighs together as heat pooled there.”
― Lynsay Sands, Devil of the Highlands

“You are handsome and sweet and have kind eyes. And you made me feel..." She paused and shook her head firmly. "You cannot be the Devil."
Cullen's expression softened at her words. She found him handsome? He could do without the sweet and kind eyes nonsense, but he liked that she thought him handsome.
"What did I make ye feel?" he growled, moving closer to slide one hand up her arm, suppressing a satisfied smile when she shivered and gasped at the light touch.”
― Lynsay Sands, Devil of the Highlands

“Thank you," Evelinde murmured, when he lifted her onto her mare.
He glanced at her then to find she was eyeing him with an expression that was both worried and perplexed. For some reason that made him want to kiss her again... so he did. Ignoring the watching servant, Cullen caught her by the back of her neck and drew her head down for a brief hard kiss that made her gasp in surprise.”
― Lynsay Sands, Devil of the Highlands