Medieval Romance Quotes

She was so lovely, it hurt his chest to gaze at her, especially knowing she was courageous and clever too.

Melanie Dickerson

If you die fighting, I want to die fighting with you.

Melanie Dickerson

I’m all alone against the darkness. Dark winds rising against me.

Mark Noce

She swatted the fur beside her. "Sit."tGrowling, he shoved his dirk back in its sheath. "I'll listen, but if ye lift a finger against me, I'll slit your throat afore ye can draw your next breath."t"I'll keep that in mind." Eva smoothed her fingers over her throat ...

Barely able to breathe, Eva's tongue slipped across her lips.tHe moved a bit closer. "Every time ye walk past, I want ye. Your scent sends my insides into a maelstrom of need."tShe closed her eyes and drew out the moment, wishing he'd say that again. Oh, how delectable to listen to a medieval Scotsman declare his desire.

He opened his eyes to half-cast. With a low rumble he lifted her onto his hips. "Take me to heaven, lassie. For no one but ye can cool the fire thrumming in my blood.

Unbridled passion with an incredibly hot seven hundred-year-old Highlander in the middle of the night? Mm Yeah. Bring it on.

She ... grabbed her bra, clasping it and shoving her arms through.t"Ye harness your udders?" The man was insufferable.t"For your information, it's a bra - short for brassiere, something that wasn't invented until the twentieth century.

In a heartbeat, he scarcely could take a breath.tWearing not a stitch of clothing, Eva stood in thigh-deep water with her back to him.tBefore he blinked, his gaze slid from coppery tresses brushing feminine shoulders to a tiny waist which fanned into glorious heart-shaped buttocks. Heaven's stars, her flawless skin had to be as pure white as fresh cream.tGod on the cross, save me.tChrist, he was only a flesh and blood man. Who on earth could resist such a temptation? He clenched his teeth and growled. Frigid water or nay, he lengthened like a stallion catching scent of a filly in heat. God's teeth, even his ballocks turned to balls of tight molten steel.

He inclined his head toward a fallen log. "Come. Let us break our fast."tShe pushed the heels of her hands against her temples as if she had an ache in her head. "I need a cup of coffee."tWilliam sat on a log. "What is this ye say ... coffee?"tShe looked at him and arched one brow as if she considered him daft. "It's a hot drink that helps me wake up in the morning."t"But ye are already awake.

You are charismatic. Men are drawn to you. I am drawn to you. And by your size, let alone your skill with weapons, they will be in awe of you.

Her pinkie took matters into its own, er, pinkie, and moved oh-so-slightly, grazing his skin. His pinkie, judging by the shape and texture. Blood rushed and pounded through her veins, flushing her skin. This could not, in any way, be explained as an accidental touch. But he could feign sleep if he wasn’t interested. Did she want him to do that? What was she doing? She commanded her pinkie to drop, and thankfully, it obeyed. A jolt shot through her as his finger made a query, and the need clarified. The need represented her desire for some measure of control. Control over her general situation. Control over her attraction. She answered with a gentle finger stroke along his calloused, warm skin. A sharp breath pierced the dark air.

He leaned his head against the rock. Christ, when was the last time he’d seen the humor in life? And now, of all places, in an enemy camp, with a strange woman who made him burn. Burn with desire. Burn with need. A desire and need not only for her and her body, but for something he couldn’t quite name.

She flapped her hands, anxious energy coursing through her. “How can you be so calm?” He got to his feet, unfolding with an easy grace. He held out a hand, his dark eyes focused solemnly on hers. “Come with me.” “For what?” “That’s part of the lesson.” Was it her imagination, or did a twinkle of humor stir in those eyes? “Center yourself, and grab onto the here and now.” That made no sense—what was he now, Sir Medieval Zen Master? But she slipped her hand into his strong, calloused one. He hauled her up until she bumped into his chest. With a finger under her chin, he tilted her face until she looked in his eyes. “Listen to the world around you. Hear the birds? Hear the small animals scurrying? You are in this moment, this moment only, and sometimes that’s all you can do, all you can be.” His finger pulled away, brushing against her skin, and he tapped her nose, stepping away.

She led them to their pallets, again encircled by other pallets. She sat down, sighing at her aching muscles, and caught his gaze. “You may, er, wrap your arms around me if that will make you feel I am safer.” He chuckled--a hoarse chuckle, rusty, but a chuckle nonetheless. She’d take it. “May I indeed?” He lay beside her and pulled her back against him, settling her head on his arm, bunching the other hide up to use as a pillow. “If I must.” His warm sigh tickled across her neck. “After all, I must ensure that pinkie does not wander.” Would Robert never let her forget that?

She needed a distraction. “Was that your mother?” The splashing stopped. “Are you going to converse while I bathe?” “Why not?” “Feels rather unseemly.” She laughed, picturing him sitting there, shocked and indignant. “We’re supposed to be married, right?” “You have a point, however I would rather not discuss her right now.” “I think you’re evading me.”“Mayhap. Is it working?

He grinned: he’d turned in time to witness her delicate white shoulders dip below the water’s surface. Thankfully, she quickly completed her morning’s ablutions and made a shooing motion with her hands. Back turned again, he waited for her to dress, all the while telling his privy counselor to cease its repeated suggestions.

You will be the death of me, woman.

Here, sleep with your back against me. I shall protect you better this way.” She nodded, shuffled closer, and leaned back against him. Her unique womanly scent washed over him, and he fortified his resolve, though having her so close on a bed of furs fired his blood. She dragged her fur up, and he draped his extra across, tucking it in around her shoulders and arms. “I do not fancy having one of them lying next to you. Besides, I wish not for your pinkie to wander.

A sudden yearning to hold Artagan close overtakes me, to smell the scent of his skin and run my hands through his tousled black hair. He will soon ride into peril again as he has many times before. No matter how often he rides away, I never get used to it.

Mark Noce

My blood runs cold. Her savage stare and bloodied hands leave no doubts in my mind as she glares up at us from across the battlefield. This must be the fabled Queen of the Picts.

Mark Noce

Hot-blooded men make war. It’s up to cool-headed queens like us to make the peace.

Mark Noce

She straightened and crossed her arms. “I can’t sleep with you,” she blurted.… “As you please.”“As you please?” She stepped back, the rough wood of the bench bumping her upper calf. She’d braced herself for a battle and now felt oddly deflated. “You aren’t going to try to talk me into it?”“I need not talk women into lying with me.

Ah, cariad, finally I have you to myself, with a bed behind me, and what do I do?

Knowing this was the same man from last night now clad again in his hunky knightly armor was a strange aphrodisiac. Yeah, a hot look, no denying.

What was once your crown will now be your collar, and you will wear it until you learn what it is to submit.

I never was the type of noblewoman to stay by the hearth while the men rode into battle anyway. As my father always used to say with the shake of his head, the blood of the Old Tribes runs strong in me.

Mark Noce

Whatever befalls us, we will endure it together. I clutch my longbow and dagger close to my side. My last thoughts linger on my husband and my boy. I will not let harm come to either of them.

Mark Noce