Scottish Romance Quotes

Quotes tagged as "scottish-romance" (showing 1-30 of 359)
Olivia Stocum
“Darcy looked at Graham for the first time in months, and realized that her memory had not done him justice. He was gold and bronze, perfect like a statue. His eyes were ice blue. They were eyes that could pierce a man's resolve, and probably had many times. But not now. Now they assessed her, ice fading to liquid sky...”
Olivia Stocum, Starlight

Donna Grant
“The excitement that filled Usaeil could barely be contained. She knew it wouldn’t take Taraeth long to corner Rhi.

As she walked past a mirror on her way to the movie set, she paused and looked at herself. Perfection. There was no way Con would refuse her. He was making a show of it, but she knew he’d cave.

It didn’t matter how long it took, the King of Kings would be hers.

That was something else she’d tell Rhi right before the pesky meddler breathed her last. The need to have Rhi wiped from existence consumed her.

Usaeil wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else until Rhi was gone. Forever. No one would stand between the Queen of the Light and what she wanted. Especially not someone like Rhi.”
Donna Grant, Heat

Angela Quarles
“She did not want to have to choose between the legend which had finally made her feel as if her life had meaning and this beautiful, caring man whose soul seemed to echo with the same beats as her own heart.”
Angela Quarles, Must Love More Kilts

Angela Quarles
“He lay stretched full length along his glorified cot, and while his bandage masked his shoulder, plenty of bare skin remained for her gaze to lap up. Bare, musclely skin. Skin that was somehow otherworldly in the soft glow of the flickering candlelight. Skin that made her want to touch, feel, and…and…lick. Until her gaze snagged on the scar-tattoo combo, and ice again crystallized in her gut.”
Angela Quarles, Must Love More Kilts

Angela Quarles
“He settled beside her on the small bench, and awareness of him pushed against her skin as if he extended past the confines of his body and made her want.”
Angela Quarles, Must Love More Kilts

Ceci Giltenan
“Being yer laird gives me the responsibility to pay attention to yer needs and see they are met whether ye wish to recognize them or not. Being yer betrothed does the same thing but it also makes me want to try to please ye. Being a man? Well that just gives me the ability to appreciate how very beautiful ye are as well as the desire to spend more time in yer company.”
Ceci Giltenan, The Pocket Watch

Angela Quarles
“She dragged the soft cloth up and up, the fabric tickling along his sensitized skin. He trembled. Never had he been so responsive to a woman’s slightest touch.”
Angela Quarles, Must Love More Kilts

Angela Quarles
“His eyes flipped up to hers, the lids hooded. Then back to her mouth. The crackling tension now sparked across her skin.”
Angela Quarles, Must Love More Kilts

Cecelia Mecca
“She was not only a female, but a damned beautiful one.A gentleman would have turned away the moment he realized what was happening."

~Alex Kerr”
Cecelia Mecca

“She clambered to the shoreline. Numb and shaken, she began to dress. It wasn’t easy as she fumbled with slick fingers to put dry clothes over wet skin. She instantly regretted her naked swim. She pulled on her long-sleeved white chemise first.
She faced the forest, away from her rescuer. He quietly splashed to shore. His lifeblood burned into her back. He wasn’t far behind, but he stopped. She refused to look at him until she was fully clothed, not out of embarrassment of her nudity, but for what had just happened. He released a groan and mumbled under his breath about wet boots. His voice was not one of her father’s soldiers.
When she put the last garment on, her brown wool work kirtle, she squeezed out her sopping hair and swept her hands through the knotty mess. She fastened her belt and tied the lacings up the front of the kirtle. Blood returned to her fingertips, and she regained her composure. Belated awareness struck her, and she leaned down and searched through her bag for her dagger. She spun around.
She gasped as she saw the man sitting on the stone-covered shoreline, his wet boots off. Confusion and the hint of a scowl filled his strong-featured face. She staggered back, caught her heel on a stone, and fell, dropping the dagger. Dirt and pebbles stuck to her wet hands and feet, and she instinctively scrambled away from him.
His glower, iridescent dark blue eyes, and disheveled black hair were not unfamiliar. Staring at her was the man she had seen in her dream – it was the man from the wood.”
Jean M. Grant, A Hundred Kisses

Kerrelyn Sparks
“I thought I saw a puddy tat.”
He grinned. “You did, you did.”
Kerrelyn Sparks, All I Want for Christmas is a Vampire

Kerrigan Byrne
“I'm not asking ye to like me, lass, only to marry me.”
Kerrigan Byrne, The Scot Beds His Wife

Angela Quarles
“Hunky men in kilts are a myth.”
Angela Quarles, Must Love Kilts

Angela Quarles
“I’m Fiona. This is my sister, Traci. We’re just here for a wee bit of adventure.”
Ian liked the sound of that. Acutely aware of Traci watching him while he kept his eyes on her sister, he said, “Well then, ye’ve come to the right place.”
Angela Quarles, Must Love Kilts

Kerrelyn Sparks
“I’m making a list. And checking it twice.”
Kerrelyn Sparks, All I Want for Christmas is a Vampire

Kerrigan Byrne
“Who knew being married was such fun," he panted, pressing a kiss to her temple and swatting her backside simultaneously.
She pulled back to look at him, one of her rare, reluctant smiles tugging at the corner of her kiss-reddened mouth. "You probably should have done it years ago."
"Nay, lass," he said suddenly feeling very serious. "Then it wouldna have been ye.”
Kerrigan Byrne, The Scot Beds His Wife

Kerrelyn Sparks
“Good grief, he’d fallen into his death sleep with a hard-on. Was it possible for a stiff to be that stiff?”
Kerrelyn Sparks, All I Want for Christmas is a Vampire

Vonda Sinclair
“Stirling, Scotland, October 1619

"Kristina, wake up and ready yourself for a journey!"
In her bedchamber, Kristina MacQueen jolted awake. Had she just heard her mother's voice? 'Twas impossible. Her mother had passed many years ago. The voice had been inside her dream. What had Ma meant about a journey? Kristina had not left the vicinity of her aunt and uncle's manor house in many months.
Hearing the faint hoofbeats of many horses galloping in the distance, she sat up and listened. As each moment passed, the horses' hooves pounded closer and closer until they echoed off the cobblestones just outside the window. Her heart thumping and an eerie feeling prickling along her skin, she swung her feet toward the floor and sat on the edge of the bed.
A fist battered violently at the home's entrance door below.
"Saints. Who could that be?" she whispered. It had to be the middle of the night or the wee hours of the morn, for she heard no one moving about the house and her room was chilly. The visitor couldn't be the physician calling to treat Uncle Gilbert, who suffered from gout, rheumatism and various other ailments. Nay, he wouldn't bring that many horses with him on a house call. Maybe 'twas the creditors, come to expel them from their home. When her uncle's health had declined, so had his funds.
Could it be news of her older sister? She had not heard from Anna in many months.
Ready yourself for a journey, her mother had said in the dream.
Good heavens! Had someone come for her, to take her to Anna?
Heart hammering, Kristina leapt from the warm bed. Though she couldn't see, she knew the placement of the furniture in her room and could easily navigate the space without bumping into anything. After tiptoeing across the cold wooden floor in her stockings, she approached the door and turned the knob to open it a crack, then listened. The maids were in an uproar on the ground floor below.
"What's the racket?" Aunt Matilda yelled as she tromped by Kristina's chamber and down the stairs. "Who is it?" she demanded near the front door.
"Chief Blackburn MacCromar!" The snarled response was bellowed from outside, just below her window.
A chill of terror and revulsion flashed through Kristina. "Saints, preserve us." She shut the door and barred it, her fingers trembling. She had not been near the malicious bastard in two years. He had finally come for her.
Anxiety and nausea froze her to the spot. What would he do? Would he kill her for a certainty this time?”
Vonda Sinclair, Highlander Entangled: A Scottish Historical Romance

Kerrigan Byrne
“She was little better than a banshee with a sidearm.”
Kerrigan Byrne, The Scot Beds His Wife

Kerrigan Byrne
“Ye might no know this about me…”
“But I prefer my women… a wee bit dirty. I’ve imagined more than once what yer foul mouth could do to me.”
Kerrigan Byrne, The Scot Beds His Wife

Angela Quarles
“Her mouth… her mouth tasted like the purest water from a newly made spring after the last snow melt. And feeling her slowly surround him with her heat? Like sliding into acceptance, into a warm, welcoming sort of understanding. Like sliding into home.”
Angela Quarles, Must Love More Kilts

Kerrigan Byrne
“If you love no one, no one can hurt you,” she whispered.”
Kerrigan Byrne, The Scot Beds His Wife

Kerrigan Byrne
“So does it still count if he doesna kiss the bride?”
Kerrigan Byrne, The Scot Beds His Wife

Angela Quarles
“And then… Oh my. She realized why his silhouette had been off.
The man was buck naked.
Pressed against her.
He’d swam naked from the galley. Picturing that, with maybe his ankle-knife clutched between his teeth, had her unable to emit another sound for quite a while.”
Angela Quarles, Must Love More Kilts

Kerrigan Byrne
“It occurred to Gavin that the first thought a groom had upon spying his bride shouldn’t be to wonder whether or not she wore knickers.”
Kerrigan Byrne, The Scot Beds His Wife

Angela Quarles
“It still shocked her. In the quiet moments when she took in her surroundings. She was in friggin’ seventeenth century Scotland. Here on a wish from the magical calling card case her sister received from a friend. She’d seen an actual historical battle. There were men in kilts everywhere.”
Angela Quarles, Must Love More Kilts

Angela Quarles
“He was the MacCowan warrior of her favorite family legend.”
Angela Quarles, Must Love More Kilts

Kerrigan Byrne
“She’d taken a life… on the same day she’d created one.”
Kerrigan Byrne, The Scot Beds His Wife

Paula Quinn
“Watching her was like being caught up in the radiance of a star, and in the light, he was revealed.”
Paula Quinn, The Scot's Bride

Lisa Carlisle
“An older witch once told me about this French saying – vous tombez bien.”
“What does that mean?” Alec asked.
“You’ve fallen well.”
Lisa Carlisle, Stone Cursed: Taurus

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