“He was right to fear. Patrick stood in the shadows, possessed by a rage so intense that it took every ounce of his control not to kill the bastard. He'd kissed his woman. Touched her. Held her in his arms.… — Monica McCarty Copy Share Image
“He was right to fear. Patrick stood in the shadows, possessed by a rage so intense that it took every ounce of his control… — Monica McCarty Copy Share Image
“The next morning dawned cool and clear. The early mist had lifted, leaving a thick layer of dew clinging to the hillsides beyond the… — Monica McCarty Copy Share Image
“You want to know what's wrong?" He took her chin, forcing her to look at him. She could feel the angry pounding of his… — Monica McCarty Copy Share Image
“And how do you propose we sort this out?" His voice was wonderfully hoarse. She smiled, a devilish glint in her eyes. "Oh, I'm… — Monica McCarty Copy Share Image
“As soon as the man had gone, Caitrina moved to stand before him, her soft feminine scent clouding his senses. Would it always be… — Monica McCarty Copy Share Image
“His kiss was brutal, punishing, for making him feel like this. He was desperate. Out of control. Never had he experienced this kind of… — Monica McCarty Copy Share Image
“How could she have reacted like that? She didn’t understand what had come over her. She’d felt his passion and her own. It made… — Monica McCarty Copy Share Image
“Her eyes widened. “My.” She looked at him hesitantly and then bit her lip. “This might be more difficult than I realized. You’re a… — Monica McCarty Copy Share Image
“Thief, brigand, outlaw, scourge: Those were names he was familiar with, not hero. Yet for a moment, this wee lass could make him want… — Monica McCarty Copy Share Image
“He was standing so close to her, all six feet plus inches of masculine strength. So solid and safe. Her valiant protector. It seemed… — Monica McCarty Copy Share Image
“He stilled for a moment, savoring the sensation of being buried deep inside her, of filling her, of being joined together in God’s heavenly… — Monica McCarty Copy Share Image
“Her eyes heated with the anger and hurt that had been held inside her for too long. "Your trips to the village have not… — Monica McCarty Copy Share Image
