Wednesday, December 12, 2012

The Taming Of A Scottish Princess

*** One good thing that comes from living the nomadic life demanded by an expedition is that one sheds the fake skin donned from living too closely among society. For those of us who live for the freedom of such a lifestyle, that skin is dry and itchy and ill fitting. From my observances, that skin is much like a callus caused by the pure irritation of being forced to spend so much time with one's fellow man. Thank God I am spared such nonsense.

*** "So he's harmless, then."
"I wouldn't say that, exactly."
"No?"
"I would not slip up behind him with a knife, for he might retaliate." Michael shrugged. "But that's to be expected. He kills only when necessary."
Mary covered her face with her hands and moaned.

*** But that's what happens when you allow a nice person to write a news paper serial for you; now the world thinks you're nice, too, which is silly in the extreme. Sadly, it's a burden that you must bear.

*** It's the pure excitement of the find combined with the golden possibilities  of what-may-be; one of bated breath, thundering heart,damp palms, and trembling limbs; a mixture of excruciating hope and the painfully exquisite fear of disappointment. It's a feeling that only another adventurer can truly understand.

*** "Jane?"
She lifted her brows. "Yes?"
"If you so much as hum one word, I shall stuff one of your gloves into your mouth."
"Tsk,tsk." She assumed an exaggerated sad look. "It's like that,is it?"

*** London is good for two things - excellent Scotch and leaving. I miss them both, especially as I often partake of one while doing the other. I find the company stifling, the streets foul smelling and overcrowded, the houses bland and without architectural merit, and the people banal and filled with their own consequence. No matter how often I leave London, I cannot wait to leave it again. My home is in my explorations. Those always welcome me.

*** But what Jane hadn't known about Michael Hurst until the day she stepped into his tent was that this adventurous, driven, gruff, brilliant explorer was also handsome. Blink-twice-and-try-to-breathe-and-still-think-you're-seeing-an-angel handsome.

*** "I vow, is there no man who can talk about physical pleasures without exaggerating?

*** "By Ra, you're an impertinent, saucy."
"Careful, Hurst. We just kissed, so according to you, I shall now interpret every thing you say in a very negative manner and might burst into tears and run shrieking off to a convent."

*** "I wish we hadn't kissed at all," he snapped.
"So do I, but we can't unkiss, so we must deal with it as best as we can."

*** "I'm surprised a person with your experience in telling elaborate fables should have difficulty in thinking up such a simple tale, but I suppose it's a different issue when you have to think quickly rather than spend time thoroughly developing your story."
"I'm  sure that's it," she replied blithely, cutting her bacon into small bits. "I'm also sure that my skills will grow over time. I just need to practice, practice, practice. Did I ever tell you about the dragon I owned when I was a child?"

*** "Jane, last night was..” he raked a hand through his hair "..nice."
Her expression could only be described as crestfallen.
"No," he hurried to say. "Don't look like that! I didn't mean "nice." In fact, it wasn't nice at all."
Her brows lowered. "No?"
"No. I mean, yes! Yes, it was nice, but it was also very, very," He tried with all of his might to grasp a word that would encompass that heart - pounding exertion that even now was making his balls hum,but to his horror, he heard himself say once again, "..nice. But really, really, really nice."

*** "...then tossed the coat into the water."
"Hurst! That's a perfectly good coat!"
"Yes, and I have a perfectly good life. One of those two things is not replaceable."

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