In her dreams the Hawk would be waiting for her by the sea's edge; her kilt-clad, magnificent Scottish laird. He would smile and his eyes would crinkle, then turn dark with
smoldering passion.
She would take his hand and lay it gently on her swelling abdomen, and his face would blaze with happiness and
pride. Then he would take her gently, there on the cliff's edge, in tempo with the pounding of the ocean. He would
make fierce and possessive love to her and she would hold on to him as tightly as she could. But before dawn, he would melt right through her fingers. And she would wake up, her cheeks wet with tears and her hands clutching nothing but a bit of quilt or pillow.
Tags: karen-marie-moning beyond-the-highland-mist adrienne
Hawk?"
He gazed up at her, still crouched on the floor, ready to pounce if she so much as moved an inch.
Tags: hawk karen-marie-moning beyond-the-highland-mist adrienne
What are the tales?" Adrienne asked wryly.
"His exploits are legendary!"
"His conquests are legion. 'Tis rumored he's traveled the world accompanied by only the most beautiful lasses."
"'Tis said there isna a comely lass in all of Scotia he hasna tumbled"
"in England, too!"
"and he canna recall any of their names."
"He is said to have godlike beauty, and a practiced hand in the fine art of seduction."
"He is fabulously wealthy and rumors say his castle is luxurious beyond compare."
Adrienne blinked. "Wonderful. A materialistic, unfaithfill, beautiful playboy of a self-indulged, inconsiderate man with a bad memory. And he's all mine. Dear sweet God, what have I done to deserve this?" she wondered aloud. Twice, she brooded privately.
Tags: karen-marie-moning beyond-the-highland-mist adrienne
He is raw sex in a bottle, uncorked. And somebody needs to cork it!
Karen Marie MoningTags: karen-marie-moning beyond-the-highland-mist adrienne
Adrijene, nemoj da se duriš!
Vrati se!
U redu grešila sam
duge godine nisam se vracala kuci,
ali sam ti uvek krila
da je to zato što sam bila u zatvoru!
Grešila sam priznajem
cesto sam tukla psa,
ali sam te volela!
Adrijene, nemoj da se duriš!
Vrati se!
Tags: poetry adrienne jacques-prévert
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