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“It isna flouncing," he said. "It's pacing."
"If you say so, Captain MacFlouncy."
"Or prowling."
"Prowling." She arched one eyebrow. "Like a kitten?"
He gave an exasperated sigh. "Call me a kitten once more, and I'll..."
"You'll what?"
"I'll pounce on you and lick you like a dish of cream."
Maddie smiled to herself. That didn't sound like such a terrible punishment.”
― Tessa Dare, When a Scot Ties the Knot

“For the first time since they'd left the inn, his eyes stopped roaming the hills and crags of the countryside and roamed her body's curves instead. Slowly, with a raw, possessive hunger.
A low, simmering heat sparked and built inside her, feeding off that desire in his eyes the same way a flame fed off coal.
He'd once called her uncommonly pretty in conversation, and at the time she had been tempted to argue back. But tonight, for the first time in her life, she felt irresistible. Ravishing.
Truly beautiful. In his eyes, if no one else's.
Oh, this was dangerous.”
― Tessa Dare, When a Scot Ties the Knot

“She took him by the sleeve and tried tugging him toward the door. Unsuccessfully.
Then she gave up on the tugging and started pushing at him instead.
That wasn't any help, either. Except, perhaps, as an aid to Logan's amusement.
He was a lot of man, and she was a mere slip of a lass. He couldn't help but laugh. But her efforts weren't entirely ineffectual. The press of her tiny hands on his arms and chest stirred him in dangerous places.
He'd gone a long time without a woman's touch.
Far too long.”
― Tessa Dare, When a Scot Ties the Knot

“At length, she gave up on the pulling and pushing, and went straight to her last resort.
Pleading. Big, brown calf's eyes implored him for mercy. Little did she know, this was the least likely tactic to work. Logan wasn't a man to be moved by tender emotion.
However, he was a man- and he wasn't unmoved by a pretty face. What with all her exertions, he was starting to see a flush of color on her cheeks. And an intriguing spark of mystery behind those wide, dark eyes.
This lass didn't belong in gray. With that dark hair and those rosy lips, she belonged in vibrant color. Deep Highland greens or sapphire blue.
His own smile took him by surprise.
She was going to look bonny wearing his plaid.”
― Tessa Dare, When a Scot Ties the Knot

“Love was nothing but a lie people told themselves.
But lust?
Lust was real, and he was feeling it. Feeling it to his core. As he held her to him, his blood pounded with the fiercest, most primal kind of need. One that spoke of possession and claiming and mine.
She made him wild.
Surely it was simply because he'd gone so long without female company. Madeline wasn't even his usual sort. Given his choice, he would have said he favored a bonny Scots lass with fiery hair and a knowing gleam in her eye. Not a shy, proper English gentlewoman just learning the taste of her first kiss.
But beneath the shyness and reserve, she possessed a natural, earthy sensuality. He couldn't help but think of what that might mean in bed- when all the rules and corsets were shed, and the dark freed her from propriety.”
― Tessa Dare, When a Scot Ties the Knot

“With a bashful smile, Maddie set down her wine glass. She touched a fingertip to her collarbone, idly stroking up and down the slender ridge.
She did that when she was nervous, Logan had noticed. Unfortunately, the little gesture that she found soothing did not have a similar effect on him. On the contrary- it inflamed his every base desire.
He swallowed hard, unable to tear his gaze away from that single, delicate fingertip stroking back and forth. And back and forth. It was as though he could feel that gentle, teasing touch on his skin. Or on his-”
― Tessa Dare, When a Scot Ties the Knot

“When their bodies met, she gave a startled gasp. And then he moved against her, and her gasp became a low, sweet sigh.
'Yes.'
"That's it." He rocked his hips against her. "Do you feel it? It's only the beginning, mo chridhe."
She shut her eyes. Her dark lashes fluttered against her cheeks. "You truly must kiss me when you do that."
Logan obliged her, this time pressing his lips to hers.
As he sank into the lush heat of her kiss, a wildness gathered and growled within him.
He wanted her. All of her. Under him. Surrounding him. Taking him into her softness and heat.”
― Tessa Dare, When a Scot Ties the Knot

“Logan's sleep was much as it always was.
Dark. Cold. Empty.
Seemingly endless.
Then, out of nowhere, a face appeared to him in the darkness. A pale, pretty face with dark eyes.
She called to him in a sweet, husky voice. "Logan."
Well, Logan thought. If he was going to develop the talent for dreaming, these were the kinds of dreams he could enjoy.”
― Tessa Dare, When a Scot Ties the Knot

“We need to talk about that comment you just made. Something about how you won't attract notice?"
"Yes. Well, what of it?"
He put his hands on the dressing table, one on either side of her hips. His blue eyes pinned her, as surely as if she'd been a butterfly pinned to a board.
"Like hell you won't attract notice," he said. "You have my notice."
Maddie squirmed, trying to escape. "Really, we'll be late. We should be leaving."
He didn't budge. "Not just yet."
"But I thought you were in a hurry."
"I have time for this."
The words were a low growl that sank to her belly and simmered there. He leaned close enough that she could breathe in the scent of his clean hair and skin, along with the faint aromas of soap and starched linen. She'd never drawn a more arousing breath.
"You may say you dinna want to attract notice. Well, I notice all of you." He tipped his head, letting his gaze saunter down her body. "In fact, I'm starting to fancy myself a sort of naturalist. One with verra particular interests. I'm becoming quite the expert in Madeline Eloise Gracechurch."
"Logan..."
"And lass, you canna stop me.”
― Tessa Dare, When a Scot Ties the Knot

“He gave her hand a little squeeze, and she drew in a gasp. Color flooded her cheeks.
There, that was better.
To be truthful, Logan needed a moment to locate his own composure. She'd knocked the breath from him, too.
He'd spent a great deal of time wondering how she looked. Too much time over the years. Of course she'd sent him sketches of every blessed mushroom, moth, and blossom in existence- but never any likenesses of herself.
By the gods, she was bonny. Far prettier than her letters had led him to imagine. Also smaller, more delicate.”
― Tessa Dare, When a Scot Ties the Knot

“Logan, please. I don't want..." Her words trailed off in a breathy sigh.
He smiled a little, rubbing up and down with the pad of his thumb. "Oh, you want. You definitely want. I can feel it." He gave her inner thigh a lick. "I can taste it.”
― Tessa Dare, When a Scot Ties the Knot