Quotes by Amy Jarecki

The first time Christina and Lachlan Meet ...Christina wasnt about to stop fighting—not until she took her last breath. Boring down with her heels, she thrashed. Get off me, ye brute. She would hold her son in her arms this day if it was the last thing she did. And by the shift of the crushing weight on her chest, she only had moments before her lifes breath completely whooshed from her lungs. The very thought of dying whilst her son was still held captive infused her with strength. With a jab, she slammed the heel of her hand across the mans chin. He flew from her body like a sack of grain. Praises be, had the Lord granted her with superhuman strength? Blinking, Christina sat up. No, no. Her strike hadnt rescued her from the pillager. A champion had. A behemoth of a man pummeled the pikemans face with his fists. Never. Ever. His fists moved so fast they blurred. Harm. A. Woman! Bloodied and battered, the varlet dropped to the dirt. A swordsman attacked her savior from behind. Watch out, she cried, but before the words left her lips the warrior spun to his feet. Flinging his arm backward, he grabbed his assailants wrist, stopped the sword midair and flipped the cur onto his back. Onward, he fought a rush of English attackers with his bare hands, without armor. Not even William Wallace himself had been so talented. This warrior moved like a cat, anticipating his opponents moves before they happened. Five enemy soldiers lay on their backs. Quickly, the man shouted, running toward her, his feet bare. No sooner had she rolled to her knees than his powerful arms clamped around her. The wind whipped beneath her feet. He planted her bum in the saddle. Behind! Christina screamed, every muscle in her body clenching taut. Throwing back an elbow, the man smacked an enemy soldier in the face resulting in a sickening crack. She picked up her reins and dug in her heels. Whoa! The big man latched onto the skirt of her saddle and hopped behind her, making her ponys rear end dip. But the frightened galloway didnt need coaxing. He galloped away from the fight like a deer running from a fox. Christina peered around her shoulder at the mass of fighting men behind them. My son! Do you see him? the man asked in the strangest accent shed ever heard. She tried to turn back, but the mans steely chest stopped her. They took him. Who? The English, of course. The more they talked, the further from the border the galloway took them. Huh? the man mumbled behind her like hed been struck in the head by a hammer. Everyone for miles knew the Scots and the English were to exchange a prisoner that day. The champions big palm slipped around her waist and held on—it didnt hurt like he was digging in his fingers, but he pressed firm against her. The sensation of such a powerful hand on her body was unnerving. It had been eons since any man had touched her, at least gently. The truth? Aside from the brutish attack moments ago, Christinas life had been nothing but chaste. White foam leached from the ponys neck and he took in thunderous snorts. He wouldnt be able to keep this pace much longer. Christina steered him through a copse of trees and up the crag where just that morning shed stood with King Robert and Sir Boyd before theyd led the Scottish battalion into the valley. There, she could gain a good vantage point and try to determine where the backstabbing English were heading with Andrew this time. At the crest of the outcropping, she pulled the horse to a halt. The pony cannot keep going at this pace. The mans eyebrows slanted inward and he gave her a quizzical stare. Good Lord, his tempest-blue eyes pierced straight through her soul. Are you speaking English?

Blessed desire gripped her nether parts as her passion inflamed. Helen shamelessly rocked her hips from side to side. My, you have turned me into a wanton woman. And thats a bad thing? His voice grew deeper with each word.

He inclined his head toward a fallen log. Come. Let us break our fast. She pushed the heels of her hands against her temples as if she had an ache in her head. I need a cup of coffee. William sat on a log. What is this ye say ... coffee? She looked at him and arched one brow as if she considered him daft. Its a hot drink that helps me wake up in the morning. But ye are already awake.

You are charismatic. Men are drawn to you. I am drawn to you. And by your size, let alone your skill with weapons, they will be in awe of you.

She swatted the fur beside her. Sit. Growling, he shoved his dirk back in its sheath. Ill listen, but if ye lift a finger against me, Ill slit your throat afore ye can draw your next breath. Ill keep that in mind. Eva smoothed her fingers over her throat ...

Isnt one mans truth another mans lie?

Barely able to breathe, Evas tongue slipped across her lips. He moved a bit closer. Every time ye walk past, I want ye. Your scent sends my insides into a maelstrom of need. She closed her eyes and drew out the moment, wishing hed say that again. Oh, how delectable to listen to a medieval Scotsman declare his desire.

He opened his eyes to half-cast. With a low rumble he lifted her onto his hips. Take me to heaven, lassie. For no one but ye can cool the fire thrumming in my blood.

Unbridled passion with an incredibly hot seven hundred-year-old Highlander in the middle of the night? Mm Yeah. Bring it on.

Nothing could stir Evas passion like a tall, muscular Scotsman disrobing. Lordy, she could watch him stand before her in the nude for hours.

She ... grabbed her bra, clasping it and shoving her arms through. Ye harness your udders? The man was insufferable. For your information, its a bra - short for brassiere, something that wasnt invented until the twentieth century.

In a heartbeat, he scarcely could take a breath. Wearing not a stitch of clothing, Eva stood in thigh-deep water with her back to him. Before he blinked, his gaze slid from coppery tresses brushing feminine shoulders to a tiny waist which fanned into glorious heart-shaped buttocks. Heavens stars, her flawless skin had to be as pure white as fresh cream. God on the cross, save me. Christ, he was only a flesh and blood man. Who on earth could resist such a temptation? He clenched his teeth and growled. Frigid water or nay, he lengthened like a stallion catching scent of a filly in heat. Gods teeth, even his ballocks turned to balls of tight molten steel.

Eva’s chin ticked up. “Are you threatening me, m’lord?”Scoffing, he gave an exaggerated eye roll. “Heaven forbid someone threaten William Wallace’s woman.”Narrowing her eyes, she glared at him for a moment. Even if he’d seen her take the pictures, he wouldn’t have a clue what she was up to. And she’d turned the flash off. He had absolutely no grounds on which to make any accusations. With a dismissive nod she turned her attention back to Christina.“But—” Comyn stepped closer, making the hackles on the back of Eva’s neck stand on end. “One day that big fella will fall out of favor, and then a pretty lassie such as yourself willna be so smug.”“I beg your pardon, Lord Comyn?” Lady Murray threw her shoulders back. “You over inflate your station. Regardless of your noble birth, Miss Eva is the daughter of a knight, and I daresay she ought not be spoken to like a mere commoner.”“Not to worry.” Eva flashed a wry grin. “I am very comfortable being identified as among the loyal servants of Scotland. Unlike some high-ranking gentry present whose questionable actions have proved their very hypocrisy, and their willingness to change allegiances on a whim only to protect their personal wealth.

Why does sin feel so good if it is a terrible thing?

I-Ive wanted you ever since... She untied the sash around her waist and let the dressing gown drop to the floor. God save him, she wore not a stitch of clothing. Every shred of self-control fled. His mind consumed with the tantalizing woman before him. Somehow she was even more beautiful now that hed remembered. The candlelight flickered amber across her skin. Chestnut tresses slid over her shoulder, framing two perfectly formed breasts, tipped by rose. Sean licked his lips, those delectable rosebuds would be his second stop. In two strides, he wrapped her in his arms and crushed his body against hers. For all that is holy, you have claimed my soul, my flesh and my mind.

The softness of her touch, the emerald eyes gazing into his when they held hands and circled, attacked his defenses and flung them aside as if he were a helpless lad. If shed come at him with a dagger, he might have let her stab him in the heart.

Enya assessed him like a woman would a piece of fine cloth. Rugged land for a rugged man.

His tongue tapped his top lip as he cupper her breast in his hand. Tis boidhche --beautiful.

His tongue tapped his top lip as he cupped her breast in his hand. Tis boidhche --beautiful.