I had no idea," she panted, "that being ruined could be so invigorating.

Ye should see my massive claymore.""Oh, good heavens," Jane muttered from behind them."What now?" he asked. "A claymore's a fine weapon, long and heavy, and a wonder when ye ken how to use it correctly."Abruptly Amelia-Rose didn't think they were talking about swords. "And you know how to use yours correctly?""Aye. I'm something of an artist, ye might say. I'd like to show it to ye, lass.

Before she could face forward again, he caught her gaze with those impossibly light-green eyes of his. “Too late. I’m already charmed, adae. Whether ye dunnae wish me to tell ye so or not.” And she was charmed, as well. If only he’d been the oldest MacTaggert. If only her mother wasn’t mad for a title in the family. If only, if only, if only.

Because of you, I am me.

I didn’t have much notice, either, and you don’t see me stomping about or trying to encourage people to faint or cry.” Oh, she likely shouldn’t have said that, either. “Ye’ve a slightly better hold of yer temper than Coll does.” “A dragon would seem to have an easier temper than your brother,” she blurted, then put a hand over her mouth. What was wrong with her tonight? He snorted. “I cannae argue with that.