Wishing For a Highlander Quotes

“I dinna expect your thanks. ’Tis not why I stole ye away from Steafan.” She rolled her eyes, but this time with affection instead of annoyance. “Duh, I know that. You’re so darned honorable you’d never do anything for something as paltry as my thanks. It’s not just about thanks. I love you, you stubborn Highlander.” She cupped her hand over her mouth. The ornery thing had just blurted that which she had yet to fully admit to herself. Considering how much it hurt to have Darcy reject her physical advances, she was in no mood to bear his inevitable rejection of her heart. Mortified, she turned to run away. But his arms went around her. He hadn’t lied when he’d claimed to be quicker. “Do ye mean that, lass?” he asked, bending over her back, holding her. “No,” she lied, trying to pry his arms away. “I’m out of my mind. Don’t listen to a thing I say. Let me go.” “No. I willna. And I think a confession spoken in ire is more trustworthy than one spoken in calm.” He turned her around and lifted her face to his. “I love you, too, lass.” He kissed her.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“What are ye doing, lass?” His voice was so soft and close in the darkness, it made her shiver. She forgot all about the hard floor. “I always imagined that once I got married, I’d finally know what it was like to spend the night in a man’s arms. Will you hold me, so I can feel what that’s like? I won’t ask for more than that. Just hold me.” He rolled to face her and touched her cheek. “Ah, lass,” he sighed. “How can I deny you when you ask so sweetly? If ’tis holding ye want, holding you shall get. But the floor is no place for you and your bairn. Up in the bed with you.” “It’s no place for a married man, either,” she said, smiling at her small victory. He sighed again, a sound heavy with sentiment she could only guess at. She climbed under the blankets and held them up for him, but he was taking his sweet time. “Are you coming?” “Aye, lass. Just donning my plaid.” She bit back a huff of frustration. She determined to enjoy what little affection he would give her and didn’t want to push her luck by asking for more. Her hormones would have to learn patience; this was going to be a painfully slow seduction. When Darcy slipped into bed, bare-chested, but wrapped in layers of wool from the waist down, she cuddled into his open arms. All her frustration drained away as he gathered her in and the heat of his chest turned her into a melty puddle of contentment. She nestled her nose into the tuft of hair between his mounded pectorals and inhaled his scent of saddle leather and faint, masculine musk. Beneath her closed eyelids, her eyes rolled back in her head with bliss.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“He’d loved her when he’d wed her. And now, after being wed for more than a year, seeing her through the birth of their cherub of a daughter, and making a home for the three of them in Dornoch, he loved her more than he’d ever imagined possible. Would he love her even more in another year? Ten years from now? When their children were grown, like Wilhelm and Constance’s? Aye. He kent he would. How could he not? She was his wife, his mate.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“A few scrapes, my ass,” she muttered, wringing her shaking hands. Constance shoved a bulb of garlic at her. “They’re Highlanders, dear. They’ll get themselves stabbed, dragged through a briar patch, thrown over a cliff, and punched in the face all before breakfast and call it ‘a fair interesting morn’.’ Now, peel those and put the cloves in the hot water.” The older woman nodded toward the steaming kettle a maid had deposited on the hearth. “Garlic water cleans wounds better than plain water and keeps infection away.” She latched onto the competence Constance radiated. While calming her with brisk assurances that all would be well, the older woman deftly deployed a small army of castle servants on various missions relating to “doctoring a bone-headed Highland husband.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“Malina.” He tugged her back against him and searched her face. She raised her gaze to his and his gut kicked with the sight of her puffy left eye. Her cheek was pink, the skin tight and swollen. He lowered his cheek to hers, overtaken by an impulse to comfort her. “I’m so sorry,” he said as the heat from Hamish’s abuse seared his whiskered skin. “Can ye forgive me, lass?” She pulled back to look him full in the face. How it pained him to see just one green gem sparkling at him; the other nearly obscured by swelling. “Sorry? You’re apologizing to me? Darcy, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’ve—I’ve ruined your life, haven’t I?” She ducked her face and heaved an agonized sob. “I’m so sorry. So sorry for everything.” He lifted her chin with a finger, hoping only to meet her gaze and tell her she had no cause to apologize, but before he got the words out, she pulled him down to her and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. His eyes flew wide in surprise, then drifted closed with bliss. Her lips were soft and cool as the most delicate rose petals. Her hand on his neck swept down his arm, her fingers leaving a tingling trail along his skin until they sought the valley of his palm. He closed his hand around hers, so cool and tiny. So fragile. Mine to protect, his heart decreed.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“With Malina in his arms, he was whole. She wasn’t only his to love and protect; she was part of him. Realization struck him with blinding force. “I canna let ye go back,” he said. “I willna. You are mine, and I willna send you away to your time.” The tightness in his chest unfurled. Malina’s eyes widened with shock. Her rose-petal lips parted to say somat, but he silenced her with a kiss. He couldn’t help himself. Let her hate him for a time. He would find a way to earn her love and forgiveness. He’d earn them every day for the rest of his life.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“His Malina was a mystery, a lovely and welcome mystery. He couldn’t resist smoothing his palm over her silky hair. Stroking her like that, over and over again filled him with peace. Concerns about his mill and Steafan and all that Wilhelm might expect from him floated away on a cloud of contentment. Until he felt warm wetness on his skin where her face nestled. “Are ye weeping?” “No,” she said, but her voice caught on a sob. “There,” he said, “now we have both told a lie to the other. We are even.” Whatever had her distraught, her heart wasn’t so heavy that she couldn’t give a small chuckle. “Maybe I’m crying just a little,” she said. “It’s fine, though. Don’t worry. Get some sleep.” “I canna. My da told me a good husband doesna lay his head down for the night if his household isna in order and his wife isna content.” “He sounds like a very responsible man. Like father, like son.” No one had given him as much to feel proud over as this woman.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“Darcy folded his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. “So, I take it you’ll be passing the chest to my wee cousin one day, Malina Rosalisa Keith. Does it put your mind at ease?” “Aye.” She rubbed her hands up and down his back, pushing her fingers under the shoulder-wrap of his kilt to caress his warm skin. “Do you know what would put my mind even more at ease?” “What’s that, mo gradhach?” “If you came back to the house with me for a long lunch break.” “Och, but I’m so busy today,” he teased. “Suit yourself,” she said, pulling out of his embrace and heading for the door. “Come along, Janine. Your daddy needs to get back to work.” Darcy rushed her and lifted her into his arms as if she didn’t weigh a ton and a half. He easily scooped Janine up as well and carried them both up to Fraineach, their home.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“A bonny name,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, coming to her and planting a kiss on her lips. “And have I told ye how lovely ye look pregnant?” “Only every day for the last eight months,” she answered, resting a hand on her enormous belly. Hooking her other hand around his neck, she pulled him down for a slower kiss. He only broke it off when Janine started squirming and saying, “Up-down! Up-down!” “Put me down, please, Daddy,” she corrected as he set their daughter on the floor.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“She ran a loving hand over Janine’s soft hair, kissed Darcy on the check, and went to answer the door, calling sweetly over her shoulder, “If I come back and find one piece of that pie missing, there’ll be hell to pay, mister.” Behind her, she heard him conspiring with their daughter. “One piece, your mama says. Then two must be okay.” She grinned at his modern slang and the high-pitched giggle that meant he and Janine were availing themselves of her morning’s labor.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“I’ve been in bed for weeks,” he argued. “Much as I love to do as ye ask where our bed is concerned, I willna go back to it while the sun is up unless you come with me.” He waggled his brows. She harrumphed Scottish-style, a habit she’d picked up from Darcy. “Well then, make yourself useful and go check on Janine.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“Put that down, you ornery old fool.” Melanie swatted at Darcy with a dishtowel, uncaring that her southern roots were showing. “Och, I’m neither auld nor foolish, and I dinna ken what ornery means,” he answered with a grin as he danced away with the pie that had been cooling on the windowsill. Curse the man’s long reach! “That’s a lie. If I’ve told you what ornery means once, I’ve told you a dozen times. The fact that you claim not to remember just proves how apt a description it is.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“While she gazed out over the North Sea, Darcy tried to sneak an apple from the bag at her feet. “Oh, no you don’t,” she said with a swat. “I’ve got big plans for those apples.” He pulled his hand back as if stung. “Mayhap, but I’m the one who bought them for you,” he answered with a smirk. “I only seek my fair share.” Hooking a long foot around the bag, he inched it toward his side of the foot well. She hooked her foot around his ankle, impeding his attempted thievery. They grinned at each other as they played their high-stakes game of footsie.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“She wished she could tell them she was happy, that she missed them and loved them so much her heart ached when thoughts of them snuck up on her. She wanted to tell her mom how much she loved being a mom herself, tell her that having a baby without an epidural had been the worst kind of torture but the moment Janine had been placed in her arms, she’d forgotten the pain. She wanted to tell her dad that she’d married a good man, a man just as responsible and loving as he.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“That night in her office back at the museum, she’d made a tongue-in-cheek wish for a sexy Highlander to sweep her off her feet. She’d gotten her wish and then some. She’d gotten a treasured friend, a passionate lover, and best of all, a wonderful father to her child—their child. She had her heart’s desire. Everything was perfect.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“I am fair proud of ye, lass,” he said, nudging her elbow with his. “For what?” She turned her bonny face to him, her eyes wide with curiosity and bright with happiness. He’d feared she would regret leaving Dornoch, but she’d bounded into his arms with a delighted squeal when he’d told her of Steafan’s change of heart. And for the days they’d been packing and saying their goodbyes, she’d chattered without ceasing about her plans for Fraineach. “For being who you are,” he said. “For being mine.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“Her eyes eased open. Their gazes caught. She smiled. “Hi,” she said and then she yawned. “You are beautiful when ye sleep,” he said. “Only when I sleep?” “Aye. The rest of the time, ye are merely radiant.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“Melanie woke to the familiar pressure of Darcy touching her belly. Using the width of his fingers as a ruler, he stacked hand over hand until two fingers came to rest at the place where her baby bulge met her sternum. It had become part of their Sunday morning routine in the month they’d lived at Skibo. “Ye’ve added three fingers since we came to Dornoch,” he said. “Your bairn is growing fair well, I’d say.” His soft gaze caressed her face as he leaned over her. She reached up to smooth his sleep-mussed hair behind his ear. The soft skin at his temple heated her fingers, and she was tempted to trail them all over his body in initiation of the more blush-inducing part of their Sunday morning routine. “You chose the wrong occupation,” she told him, pushing herself up to kiss his nose. “You should have been a midwife.” “Och, ’tis only your legs I care to look between.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“She truly was his beloved. His most precious treasure. That which he would kill for. That which he would die for.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“Malina’s hands kneaded his neck and shoulders with surprising strength. The mound where her bairn grew cushioned his wet head. He tilted his chin to gaze up at her. So lovely she was, watching him with smiling eyes, her hair loose about her face, her breasts rising and falling with the tide of contented breaths.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“Malina,” he murmured, finding her mouth and taking her breath away with a desperate kiss. “My Malina.” “My Darcy,” she said past a silly grin as she submitted to his ravishing mouth and roaming hands. “I am yours,” he whispered between kisses. “I give myself to you, lass, now and for all time. Your happiness shall ever be my greatest goal, your pleasure my greatest desire.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“I love you, lass,” he said quietly. She looked up to see him watching her from under his arm. “More than I thought a man could love.” Her stone tumbled off its precipice. Tears heated her eyes and moistened her cheeks as she pulled off the other boot and let it fall to the floor. Happiness infused her, making her body warm and heavy with longing. “I love you too.” “Enough to forsake your home?” He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, waiting for her response. His face wore a much more jaded version of the vulnerability she had grown used to. She went to him and undid his belt, shaking her head. “I’ll never forsake my home.” When he closed his eyes to shield her from his disappointment, she let the undone belt fall to the blankets and framed his face with her hands. “My home is where you are. I will stay with you. Forever.” He opened his eyes and searched her gaze with shocked wonder. “I would have told you as much if you’d bothered to ask before leaving for Inverness.” She softened the rebuke with a smile. “But I understand why you went, I think. You were trying to keep your word to me.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“With Malina in his arms, he was whole. She wasn’t only his to love and protect; she was part of him. Realization struck him with blinding force. “I canna let ye go back,” he said. “I willna. You are mine, and I willna send you away to your time.” The tightness in his chest unfurled. Malina’s eyes widened with shock. Her rose-petal lips parted to say somat, but he silenced her with a kiss.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“Wilhelm!” he called again. “Show yourself!” Wilhelm and a pair of his guards rounded the keep at a run. He reigned in Gil’s horse. “Where is she? Where is my wife?” “Right behind me. What happened, man? Are ye wounded?” Malina came running around the keep with Constance. Relief surged through him to see her blessedly unharmed, though her face was drawn with concern. She was worrit for him. He flew from the saddle and dashed to her. His ripped thigh protested, but he didn’t falter in his steps. Pain was nothing compared to the need to hold his sweet wife in his arms. Sweeping her up, he pinned her to his chest. Their hearts reached for each other with every beat. She clung to him as fiercely as he clung to her, and some of the horror of the last hour lifted from him. “Christ, lass, I thought…I thought—” He buried his face in her hair. She smelled of herbs and flowers, and underneath was her own scent of sugared custard. She wore a lovely kirtle of sapphire blue and an apron smudged with dirt as if she’d been doing chores in the garden. Her hair flowed like silk through his fingers as he ran his hand over her head and face, assuring himself she was hale, all except for the purple marks around her left eye from Hamish’s hand. Passing over her cheeks, his fingers came away wet with her tears. “Dinna weep, Malina mine. All is well.” “You’re hurt,” she cried. “Let me see. There’s so much blood.” “What happened?” Wilhelm demanded. “How much of the blood is yours?” Constance asked. He ignored all but Malina. “I’m all right, lass. I’m all right. Just a few scrapes.” He permitted himself a relieved breath as her face smoothed somewhat, but he refused to let her go. He couldn’t even bring himself to lower her feet to the ground. With Malina in his arms, he was whole. She wasn’t only his to love and protect; she was part of him. Realization struck him with blinding force. “I canna let ye go back,” he said. “I willna. You are mine, and I willna send you away to your time.” The tightness in his chest unfurled. Malina’s eyes widened with shock. Her rose-petal lips parted to say somat, but he silenced her with a kiss. He couldn’t help himself. Let her hate him for a time. He would find a way to earn her love and forgiveness. He’d earn them every day for the rest of his life.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“The Keith. Riding up the road. Covered in blood and screaming like a wild banshee. And he’s riding a different horse than the one he left on. Come quick!” Her stomach dropped to her feet as Darcy’s frantic shouts met her ears. “Wilhelm! Ye bloody better have my wife! Malina! Where are ye, lass? Malina!” She grasped Constance’s hand, and together they ran after Wilhelm toward the road.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“No,” Hamish said. “The choice is yours. Come along with us or I shall make use of your wife while ye watch. I’ll show her what a man can do when he isna scairt of his cock. I’ll have the bitch praising me for sating her when her husband couldna as she goes to the fire.” Fury tightened his movements. He blocked Hamish’s sword, then threw him back with a roar. “You willna touch my wife! Not ever!”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“Gravois returned a few minutes later with a package the size of a flintbox. ’Twas wrapped in canvas and tied with twine. “S'il vous plait, tell your wife that I wish her well, and that this gift is to be opened only—how do you say?—when the sheet hits the fan. It is very important you use those exact words, mon ami.” He raised a brow at the odd phrase, but took the package.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“He felt the blood drain from his face. He would lose his very heart and soul when he sent Malina away as it was. What would it do to him to send her back after he’d had years to cherish her?”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“You’re certain it was magic?” the lad asked. “What—” He looked down and scuffed his toe in the dirt. “If you dinna mind me asking, sir, what did the box…do?” He whispered the last word. “It brought a fair lass through time. From far in the future.” He watched closely for a sign of recognition. If the lad could have grown any paler, he might have done so then. “The future,” he whispered as if it were the answer to a question that had long plagued him. He stared at Darcy in an apparent state of shock before spinning to put his crate on the workbench.”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander

“Honestly, dear, if you can’t tell that man is completely head over heels for you, you need your eyes checked. He’s not running from you. More likely, he’s afraid of what you make him feel. As a general rule, men don’t like to be out of control. That’s especially true for our rugged Highlanders. They are men of action.” Constance sipped her tea. “Hunt it, terrify it, dominate it, kill it. And if it can’t be hunted, terrified, dominated, or killed, than it’s best to leave it alone.” “Wilhelm didn’t leave you alone,” she said, more than a little jealous of the woman for being happily married while her husband was miles away searching for a way to get rid of her. “No, he most certainly didn’t. But he did try to terrify me. And when that didn’t work, he tried his hand at dominating me.” The defiant gleam in her eye spoke to the effectiveness of those attempts. “It wasn’t until the poor man realized he could dominate me through tenderness and that when a woman loves a man, she is innately terrified of losing him, that he finally began to trust what we had.” “You’re saying Darcy’s just trying to make sense of what he feels for me, and he’s doing it by immersing himself in action. But what if he actually finds a way to return me to my time?” “He might find your box maker. He might even learn the secret to returning you to your time. The question is, what will he do with the information?” Constance leaned forward, turning the full power of her shrewd gaze on her. “Perhaps a better question is, if he arrives at a decision you don’t like, will you roll over and accept it, or will you fight for what you really want?”
― Jessi Gage, Wishing for a Highlander