Highland Conquest Quotes

“Well, well, look who finally got off her back,” Isla said from down below, one eyebrow raised, smirking up at her like a round, wee weasel. Amber darted a look around the great hall to make sure no one was within earshot, then said, “I was hardly e’er on my back. You need to teach Alban some new tricks if that’s all he’s doing to you. Lachlan is most inventive.”
― Alyson McLayne, Highland Conquest

“He was a lucky man and shuddered at how close he’d come to walking away from Amber. And why? Because he’d despised everything about his mother? Well, Amber was the antithesis of Mùirne MacKay. She was honest to the point of being rude, she was loyal to the point of putting herself in danger, she was funny to the point of being outrageous, and she was so damn clever, she made every other person in her vicinity look addlepated. And he loved it.”
― Alyson McLayne, Highland Conquest

“Darach squeezed Lachlan’s shoulder. “Glad you’re still with us.” “Amber too,” Kerr said, his biceps bulging as he crossed his arms over his huge chest. “I still have to prove to her I’m not a weak, mewling lad with my stones caught in her grip.” “Sorry, lad, we doona have all year,” Gregor said.”
― Alyson McLayne, Highland Conquest

“Heat scorched her cheeks, and she hastily straightened her clothes. “’Tis none of your concern, old man. Laird MacKay understands I doona wish to marry him.” “Aye, you will. ’Tis contracted, remember?” Lachlan said as he pushed past her. “If you didn’t want to marry me, you shouldnae have asked.”
― Alyson McLayne, Highland Conquest

“Love isn’t about beauty! It’s about being with someone for forty years and finding they can still make you laugh. Having someone whom you’d die for because their happiness comes before your own, who understands what you’re saying without having to say anything at all. Being in love is about giving everything and not worrying about getting anything back because you’ve already got it.”
― Alyson McLayne, Highland Conquest

“Lachlan bent forward, hands on his knees, sides heaving. His plaid, which was looped over one shoulder, slipped down. Amber couldn’t stop her gaze from poring over him, taking in every indent of his ribs, the banding of the muscles that attached to his spine. “Amber, stop it,” he said. “I can barely walk as it is.” She jumped guiltily and turned her head. “Surely, I doona know what you mean.”
― Alyson McLayne, Highland Conquest

“They’d spent half their time together in the evenings arguing and baiting each other, even if their chaperones were unaware of it. It might be as subtle as a raised brow or tiny smirk or a more obvious eye roll. They shared a silent language that could say more between them than a whole night with someone else.”
― Alyson McLayne, Highland Conquest

“Amber—” “Doona Amber me, Lachlan MacKay, just drink your damned whisky and tell me your plan.”
― Alyson McLayne, Highland Conquest

“Not that she felt they’d done anything sinful, as Father Odhran would say, but the notion that Lachlan wanted to tup her and not marry her had hurt. Which was confusing, because the last thing she wanted was to get married. Still, she didn’t like that he considered her good enough to tup on a regular basis, using her knowledge of herbs to avoid having bairns, but not good enough to marry. Idiot man. Nay, laird. He was her laird, and she’d best remember that…idiot laird.”
― Alyson McLayne, Highland Conquest

“My heart is racing like I’ve run from here to Inverness,” he said. “Or just beaten an opponent who had a great, bloody axe.” “Mine too. He’s determined.” “And wily too. He knew you were in here. I think he set you up.” “Aye. Tricky bastard.” “Not tricky enough.” A wee smile cracked her face. She tried to hold it back, but it broke through, and they both burst out laughing—in relief, but also at the absurdity of it, at what had almost happened. How he, a grown man and laird, a warrior and defender of good people, had been running from chamber to chamber trying to outwit a decrepit, interfering old man.”
― Alyson McLayne, Highland Conquest

“Still, that was naught compared to being dragged from her horse by the big, demented ape who’d loomed up from nowhere and practically killed her. When he’d pressed the side of her neck and almost knocked her out, she’d thought surely she was about to die. Only to rouse trussed up like a pig. The worst part of it was that she thought he was enjoying himself. Aye, he’d liked fighting with her, dragging her about like a sack of oats. Ignorant oaf.”
― Alyson McLayne, Highland Conquest

“Bah! Her hair had caused her nothing but trouble. How many times had she wished herself plain when some irritating man came knocking at her door, asking for her hand? Too many to count.”
― Alyson McLayne, Highland Conquest