When a Scot Ties the Knot (Castles Ever After, #3)

by Tessa Dare

“Here I am, struggling to banish any foolish imagined affections for you so that we can consummate this marriage of convenience in a proper businesslike fashion, as we agreed. And then you go and read a book?” While he was at it, why didn’t he just bring her a basket of kittens, a bottle of champagne, and pose naked with a rose caught between his teeth?

The love of books was an instant connection, and a true boon for a girl who tended toward shyness, because it was a source of endless conversation.

I dinna do cuddling, he’d said. She nuzzled the velvety cropped hairs at the nape of his neck, smiling secretly to herself. Perhaps he didn’t do cuddling, but she did. She was excellent at it, apparently. Madeline Eloise Gracechurch: Stealth Cuddler.

“I’ve been married,” said the habitually silent Fyfe. “I’ll tell you what she wants. She wants your secrets. She wants your soul. You’ve got to crack yourself open and find that broken, shameful piece of your heart that you’d hide from the world and God Himself if you could manage it. And then serve it up to her on a platter. They won’t settle for anything less.”

“It felt as if I’d tugged on a loose thread of God’s tartan, and a world away, someone tugged back.