After a taste of a Scot, you'll never look elsewhere again."A brunette smiled seductively, "That's quite a boast.""I'm quite a man.

You aren't meant to be a prisoner. You're powerful and incredible." "You've no' seen me in dragon form.""I don't have to. I see the man before me now.

You're a Scott," the Dark said, his lips peeled back in displeasure, as if just saying the word was revolting."And you're Irish. I'm so glad we got that settled.

There’s no scandal involved,” she said airily. “I have no connection with you whatsoever. I have nothing to do with you. You are a thimble filled with water next to my ocean. You are a grain of sand to my beach. You are a tiny star in the sky. You’re nothing to me.

The only thing that can hurt me now is the thought of never knowing this feeling again. To never be able to touch you this way again...

I must remember to be troublesome now and again, else you are going to be impossible to live with. And by what magic did you find the gown and the horse?""Scottish fairy magic." His grin widened."Do you mean that fairies are real in Scotland?

He watched her emerald eyes darken with need until they were the color of the Highland hills warmed by the summer sun.