I love you. We’re getting married, and that’s the way it is. Get used to it.
Odysseus and his soldiers to certain destruction. Odysseus.
But, the giant wasn’t a god or a demon. He was just a man, very primitive and frightening, yet still just a man. Besides, anyone with a pinch of sense knew women were smarter than men.
You kill a cockroach, Pete. You don’t domesticate him.
Her computer was still in the bag she was carrying, so it was safe. She rushed to her closet to check the cubby where she hid her backup drive. It was exactly where she’d left it.
Hate the sin, not the sinner.
She was bringing Laird Ramsey Sinclair’s brother home to him,” he replied.
Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord. Was Father Tom thinking about vengeance now? The possibility amused him. Perhaps the next time he went to confession he would ask him. A priest should understand. That was his job, wasn’t it? To understand and forgive? Maybe understanding would come with death.
Evil is the man who has known honor and discarded it.
The young fought sleep, she thought, but the old relished it, and at the moment, she felt absolutely ancient.
She was a refreshing diversion in perfection.
She nodded. Nick opened the door, but she paused on the threshold. “Noah? What’s your last name? “Clayborne,” he answered. “Noah Clayborne.
When you’re right, you’re right.” “That’s it?” He was suddenly furious with her and didn’t care that it showed. Damn it, she had told him she loved him, and after a one-minute argument, she caved. What the hell kind of love was that? “That’s all you have to say?” “No, actually there is one more thing I’d like to mention.” “Yeah? What’s that?” “You’re an idiot.
You can’t love someone without trust.
All warriors have scars. They’re marks of valor.
A wife must do whatever her husband orders her to do.” The command didn’t sit well with her. “This wife doesn’t.” “Damn it, Gillian, don’t turn stubborn on me.” “A husband doesn’t curse in his wife’s presence.” “This husband does,” he snapped.
On a horse? I was married on a horse? Gillian looked like she could kill the groom.
Men were far more delicate to deal with than women were, she thought to herself. Their pride made the most reasonable solutions difficult.
The fabric looked delicate enough to shred with a good sneeze.
He knew she needed time to sort the problem out in her mind. Because he was such a patient man, he decided to give her an hour or two to agree. He thought he was being very courteous, and cautioned himself against letting such consideration become a habit.
Their clothing is called their plaid, Mary. Plaid,” Beak repeated with a growl. “It’s their sacred dress. I think they’d take exception to hearing it called a woman’s gown.” “Then it’s little wonder to me why they have to fight all the time,” Jamie interjected. She hadn’t really believed Cholie’s tale, but Beak looked so sincere she was beginning to think he was telling the truth. “Aye,” Mary agreed. “They have to defend their gowns.