He's A Man...and That's No

Oh, Womanly Sympathy, Love And Food?" I Said, Laughing. "don't Want A Lot, Do You?

I Had Kissed My Share Of Men, Particularly During The War Years, When Flirtation And Instant Romance Were The Light-minded Companions Of Death And Uncertainty. Jamie, Thought, Was Something Different. His Extreme Gentleness Was In No Way Tentative; Rather It Was A Promise Of Power Known And Held In Leash; A Challenge And A Provocation The More Remarkable For Its Lack Of Demand. I Am Yours, It Said. And If You Will Have Me, Then.

I Have No Objection To Well-written Romance, But I'd Read Enough Of It To Know That That's Not What I Had Written. I Also Knew That If It Was Sold As Romance I'd Never Be Reviewed By The 'new York Times' Or Any Other Literarily Respectable Newspaper - Which Is Basically True, Although The 'washington Post' Did Get Round To Me Eventually.

…but Sassenach—i Am The True Home Of Your Heart, And I Know That.” He Lifted My Hands To His Mouth And Kissed My Upturned Palms, One And Then The Other, His Breath Warm And His Beard-stubble Soft On My Fingers. “i Have Loved Others, And I Do Love Many, Sassenach—but You Alone Hold All My Heart, Whole In Your Hands,” He Said Softly. “and You Know That.

No Wonder He Was So Good With Horses, I Thought Blearily, Feeling His Fingers Rubbing Gently Behind My Ears, Listening To The Soothing, Incomprehensible Speech. If I Were A Horse, I’d Let Him Ride Me Anywhere.