" What is being a Scot like?" Ellice heard her mother ask.
'Oh, no.'
"A certain independence of spirit,"she answered before the men could. Or before the girl serving the venison could hear, take notes about Enid's snide remarks, and carry them to Brianag.
"An ability to carry on despite circumstances," she continued. "Perhaps a belief in otherworldly phenomena."
"Do you think we all believe in ghosts?" Gadsden asked.
She glanced at him. Now was not the time to recall the feeling of her breasts pressing against his chest, of his fingers on her skin, his lips trailing kisses along her throat.
Or her earlier image of him unveiling her, inch by inch.
Her cheeks warmed.
"Do you believe in ghosts?" she asked him.
"Not the incorporeal ones," he said. "Only those of memory and mind."
"Are you a haunted man?"
He didn't answer her, merely sat there, his gaze steady on her. To her surprise neither her mother nor Macrath said a word. Or perhaps they did and she didn't hear anything.
She was caught by his gray eyes, snared and netted until she could almost imagine she was at his feet, head bowed, swearing allegiance to him.
He'd raise her up with both hands on her arms until she stood before him, clad only in her gauzy tunic. A slave brought to the man who declared himself her master. "
― Karen Ranney , The Virgin of Clan Sinclair (Clan Sinclair, #3)
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'Oh, no.'
"A certain independence of spirit,"she answered before the men could. Or before the girl serving the venison could hear, take notes about Enid's snide remarks, and carry them to Brianag.
"An ability to carry on despite circumstances," she continued. "Perhaps a belief in otherworldly phenomena."
"Do you think we all believe in ghosts?" Gadsden asked.
She glanced at him. Now was not the time to recall the feeling of her breasts pressing against his chest, of his fingers on her skin, his lips trailing kisses along her throat.
Or her earlier image of him unveiling her, inch by inch.
Her cheeks warmed.
"Do you believe in ghosts?" she asked him.
"Not the incorporeal ones," he said. "Only those of memory and mind."
"Are you a haunted man?"
He didn't answer her, merely sat there, his gaze steady on her. To her surprise neither her mother nor Macrath said a word. Or perhaps they did and she didn't hear anything.
She was caught by his gray eyes, snared and netted until she could almost imagine she was at his feet, head bowed, swearing allegiance to him.
He'd raise her up with both hands on her arms until she stood before him, clad only in her gauzy tunic. A slave brought to the man who declared himself her master." style="width:100%;margin:20px 0;"/>