“A fierce possessiveness gripped him, a need to brand her, to make her his, now and forever. And he knew it was madness.”

“Mayhap it was not wise to question God's plans; mayhap he had been meant to live, to seek this justice, to serve some purpose. The past was the past. And the future...”

“Celine glanced up as she passed under an arch, at another of the chateau’s decorations, her personal favorite: the entwined letters G and R, carved over every doorway. Family legend had it that one of the original owners of the chateau, a knight by the name of Sir Gaston de Varennes, was responsible for that bit of artwork. Sir Gaston, it seemed, had been quite a ladies’ man—until he had met and married his wife, whom he loved so much, he had had her initial engraved with his in every castle he owned.”

“His mouth captured hers with a strong, soft heat and Celine discovered something far sexier than this man’s voice or his body. His kiss. She never had the chance to think of a protest. To think at all. She had been kissed before, but never like this. It was neither awkward and teasing nor forceful and overpowering, but long, slow, confident, and devastating. It was as if he were binding them together, deftly drawing her soul into his.”

“A fierce possessiveness gripped him, a need to brand her, to make her his, now and forever. And he knew it was madness.”

“Time. She had to go home. As soon as the lunar eclipse occurred in three weeks. Because if she stayed here, she would die. Either from the bullet in her back, or from the pain that was slowly sinking talons into her.”

“What are you cooking this night, wife?” One of the crepes picked that moment to dislodge itself from the ceiling. It landed at her feet with a plop as if on cue. “Crepes.” She kept a straight face and tried to look like this was the normal way to make crepes.”

“Beware, lion’s lady, for your predator is hungry tonight. He may not wait long before devouring you.” “Devouring me?” she asked, challenge gleaming in her eyes. “What if I devour him first?”

“He had won. He could release her at any time. But her lips... those soft, sweet petals were parting tremulously at the touch of his tongue, and she was granting him entry to the warmth of her mouth. He thrust boldly inside, wanting but one taste of her. Only one.”

“There is not a man alive who would not want you.”

“Camhanach, it is a bargain as old as the world itself." He chuckled."Women want protection...men want a willing lass to warm their bed.”