Angus Quotes

Can I see you outside for a second?" Kat glared at Hale, then walked to the patio doors and out onto the veranda. As Hale closed the door behind him, Kat heard Angus say, "Ooh, Mom and Dad are going to fight now.

It was an annoying name to have. People tended to spell in Mangus, rhymes with Angus. I always corrected them: No, it's Magnus, rhymes with swagness. At which point they would stare at me blankly.

Angus looked at Hamish. "I hate it when Mom and Dad fight." Hamish smoothed his brother's messy hair. "Me too.

Look, I can't go out with you, because...because...because I'm a lesbian.

Kat had been picking things up since her third birthday, when Hamish and Angus's father took them all to the circus because he needed to "borrow" an elephant.

When uncle Eddie does his impression of 'Like a Virgin' it's like Madonna is coming out of his body!' Christ what an image.

If it works, it works,' Kat told him. 'And if it doesn't?' he asked. She looked at him. 'If it doesn't, then I've heard Monaco has the nicest prisons in all of Europe.' 'It does,' both Hamish and Angus said in unison. And with that, it was decided.

That's why we're going to disrupt the lunch," she (Kat) said. "You know," Angus said, "I've got a little C-four that I've been saving for a rainy--" "We're not blowing up my company, Angus," Hale said. "Righto. Carry on, Kitty.

As she left my room I knew I should shut up. But you know when you should shut up because you really should just shut up...but you keep on and on anyway? Well, I had that.

That of all people, it should be him; that took her aback. That the heart should settle on somebody like him; that surprised her. But she was so certain about it, so certain.

Through my curtains I can see a big yellow moon. I’m thinking of all the people in the world who will be looking at that same moon. I wonder how many of them haven’t got any eyebrows?

Watching TV Mum said, 'Do you miss your dad?' and I said, 'Who?

Hamish's right arm was around Angus's waist as the two of them tangoed past.

I don't want to hurt anyone" Laszlo fiddled with a button on his tux jacket. "Can't we convince the CIA that some of us are peaceful?" "we'll have to try" Angus folded his arms across his broad chest. "And if they doona believe we're peaceful, then we'll have to kill the bastards." Roman frowned, somehow their Highlander logic escaped him.

Now, now, hear me out," Hamish went on. "We don't have to kidnap Garrett. Not if we kidnap the buyer." "Or distract him," Angus added. "Like the Bulgari job," Hamish said. "You mean the job that landed half the DiMarco family in a South African prison?" Kat said. Angus shrugged. "Nobody said it was perfect.

I can already feel myself getting fed up with boys and I haven't had anything to do with them yet" - Georgia Nicolson

Yes, of course. But ... how?" Kat felt her crew around her: Hamish's arm hung around Simon's shoulders; Gabrielle's delicate hands draped through the arms of Angus and Nick. Kat's own hand found Hale's, then, fingers interlacing, palms pressing together so tightly that Kat knew nothing could come between them. Nothing. She looked at him. No one. "It's easy," Kat said, "when you don't have to do it alone.

I am going to become a writer for Cosmo - you don’t have to make any sense at all. Or maybe I’ll be a bloke, they don’t have to make sense either.

I dinna trust him," said Slightly Mad Angus. "He reads books an' such.

I doona need drugs. I am naturally a mean bastard.

Angus reached the young woman to find that she was shaken more by the sudden fire than by the lion, as she had only seen it as it ran back to the mountain. Sliding from the back of the cob, he took the woman’s hand to calm her shaking. Quietly he introduced himself, and hesitantly she told him that her name was Elbeth, and she was the daughter of James Cameron.

At the end of one of the bookshelves she picked up a very old book. It was truly ancient, and woven into the cover was a motif of joined hands which merged into three words: Aonaibh Ri Chéile. The dedication on the inside cover was simply “To Elbeth with Love.” The author was someone called Angus Ferguson

Nick sat beside Simon, who was at his computer. Marcus stood at attention beside the food. Hale had his feet on the table, reading the morning paper. And someone had given the Bagshaws a gun. 'Pull!' Hamish yelled, and Angus pulled a cord and sent a skeet flying across the deep blue water. A split second later, a loud crack was reverberating across the deck. Kat jumped. Hale sighed. The shot went far wide, and Marcus never moved a muscle.

If you allow one little sin to creep into your life, and think it doesn't matter, it will grow and grow until it affects your whole spiritual life, deflecting you from your primary aim of serving God.

What are you waiting for?" shanna asked. "He's dying! Do it!" Conner looked at Angus. "Ye do it. It was yer idea." "Nay? Ye were the first to suggest it. Ye do it." "I'm no' touching him." Conner said. He nudged Phineas "Ye do it." "I don't even know how!" Phineas poked at Robby. "You do it." "Why me?" Robby turned to Angus. "Ye're the expert. Ye do it." Angus grimaced. "I'm no' doing it. I hate the bugger." "Stop it!" Shanna screamed "You- Forget it! I'll do it myself." "Shanna you don't know how," Roman said. "Gods blood. I guess I have to do it." "You guess?" Shanna cried "Are you going to let him die?" "He threatens to kill me every time he sees me.

How do you make yourself not like someone?

We should not rely on our feelings; we had to walk by faith and not by sight. If we preserve in the Lord, we always succeed.

'April, April, laugh thy girlish laughter, and the moment after, Weep thy girlish tears, April.'

After four hundred and ninety-three years of teleporting from one place to another, Angus Mackay still felt an urge to peek under his kilt to ensure everything had arrived in fine working condition. There were some areas where a man, vampire or not, would hate to find himself shortchanged.

POOR ANGUS Oh what do you do, poor Angus, When hunger makes you cry? "I fix myself an omelet, sir, Of fluffy clouds and sky." Oh what do you wear, poor Angus, When winds blow down the hills? "I sew myself a warm cloak, sir, Of hope and daffodils." Oh who do you love, poor Angus, When Catherine's left the moor? "Ah, then, sir, then's the only time I feel I'm really poor.

Unbelievable! I said, "What would I be doing walking the streets at night as a stuffed olive- gate-crashing cocktail parties?

I had a choice: I could believe the lies of the devil, in which case I was on my way to suicide, or I could believe in the promises of God, and be taken through my time of trial.

The father is the head of the home; the mother is the heart of the home; the children are the reward, the joy and the life of the home.

Oh,Angus, where's the beef?

Gregori leaned forward. "Can you believe it? We're all a bunch of mutants! Just like the Ninja Turtles." Angus blinked. "We - we're like... turtles?" Gregori burst out lauging. Ian shook his head, grinning. Connor snorted. "Nay. We have vampire DNA. No turtles.

You're fourteen years old. You've only had that hair for fourteen years and you want to change it already! How bored are you going to be with it by the time you are thirty? What color will you be up to by then?

We all learned valuable lessons from that crop. The Lord showed us the importance of walking by faith, and not by sight, of trusting him unconditionally and never giving up.

Faith is a day-to-day lifestyle and experience of Jesus Christ. That's what we are experiencing at Shalom, when we plant in faith - even in the dust - and trust in him for the miracles of his love.

William Carey, the great Baptist missionary, said, "Attempt great things for God and expect great things from God.

Charles sat in lone splendor on a huge couch in the middle of Angus's spacious living room--while the other ten or twelve people present made themselves at home on the other side of the room. Anna surveyed the scene. "Okay," she said. "Who's been being a grouch?

Basement?' Hamish cried, then glanced at his brother. 'You hear this fellow? He thinks we can just go on down to the furnace and start tinkering?' Angus laughed. 'He probably wouldn't care at all if the whole place went boom, he wouldn't.' At this the guard bristled and stood up even straighter. 'Now see here---' 'No, you see, my good man. Out here, see, we've got snow. So in there, I'd bet, you've got heat. And where there's heat there's gas; and where there's gas there's...' Angus trailed off while his brother said, 'boom.

There is power in prayer. When men work, they work. but when men pray, God works.

When we did eventually get to the party - me walking next to Dad's Volvo driving at five miles an hour - I had a horrible time. Everyone laughed at first but then more or less ignored me. In a mood of defiant stuffed oliveness I did have a dance by myself but things kept crashing to the floor around me. The host asked if I would sit down. I had a go at that but it was useless. In the end I was at the gate for about an hour before Dad arrived.

Where’s the bull? (Callie) Tied to a tree, eating my boot. I’m just glad my leg is no longer in it. (Sin) Lad, how did you manage it? (Angus) I run fast when chased by large bulls. (Sin)

Now isn't this role more fun than nun?" Gabrielle sauntered into the room, casting a sideways glance at the skirt she had personally hemmed. Hamish nodded, "Kat... you have... legs." "And boobs," Angus added, staring quite directly at the section of the white blouse that Gabrielle had made a bit too form-fitting for Kat's personal taste. "Seriously Kat," Simon said, inching closer, "When did you get boobs?" Hamish looked at Hale, "The boobs are new." He said as if that point hadn't already been thoroughly made. "Is that padded?" Simon held out his hand as if to cop an oh-so-scientific feel. "Hey!" Kat slapped his hand away. "Her dad's going to get out of prison one of these days boys." Hale added, amused.

JUST LET IT GO.

Oh dear. I have just seen Angus hunkering down in the long grass. He's stalking their poodle. I'll have to intervene to avert a massacre. Oh, it's OK, Mrs. Next Door has thrown a brick at him.

Elbeth and Angus embraced and stepped back to exchange the rings. As the two lovers grasped each other’s right hands the rings shone with white intensity, dimmed and then reappeared on each of their left hands. Between their right hands a silver quaich appeared with the Cameron motto shining brightly: Aonaibh Ri Chéile – let us unite – and united they were. But then, as the couple lifted the ancient wedding cup to their lips, Munro once again heard Ala Moire’s voice from beyond the grave, and this time it carried a warning. “To your right Alastair, evil stalks here in the shadows!” Robert Reid – White Light Red Fire

Peter Marshall, the great evangelical preacher, once said that we need "faith like potatoes" - plain, simple, real faith that will sustain us in our everyday lives. Whenever I pick up a potato I remember those words. That's the kind of faith I want. When we have faith and act on it, God will come through for us, no matter what our circumstances. God is King!

Nunga nungas!

So this is what men are like. Well, that's it, then - I am going to be a lesbian.

I must have bitten Angus Young too, because his brother Malcolm walked up to me in a rage. I was wearing platform boots, and Malcolm's face was eye level with my belly button. "You fucking bastard," he roared at my navel. "You can bite my brother, fine! But if you fucking bite me, I'll bite your fucking nose off, you dog-faced faggot." I think I said something like "you and what stepladder," because before I knew it, he was attacking me, climbing up my leg and clawing at my face like a crazed cat.

Ye are different, Emma. I doona need ye in order to survive. But surviving is no' the same as living. Or the same as feeling human again. I am alive when I'm with you. Ye feed my soul. (Angus MacKay)

It felt as if maybe the curse had lifted, the tide had shifted, but then the breeze picked up and a skeet took a very unfortunate turn. Seconds later, Angus was pulling his shot far to the right, shooting a large hole in the second-story galley not ten feet above Marcus's head.

...a novel, like a myth or any great work of art, can become an initiation that helps us to make a painful rite of passage from one phase of life, one state of mind, to another. A novel, like a myth, teaches us to see the world differently; it shows us how to look into our own hearts and to see our world from a perspective that goes beyond our own self-interest.

Overslept and had to race to get a life to Jas’s with my dad. No time for yoga or makeup. Oh well, I’ll start tomorrow. God alone knows how the Dalai Lama copes on a daily basis. He must get up at dawn. Actually, I read somewhere that he does get up at dawn.

You have a perfect right to consign us all to hell, rector, but you must allow us the choice of how we get there. Raspberry Jam

Angus is amusing himself by ambushing the postman. Och aye, they may have taken his trouser snake addendums, but they cannae tak his freedom!!

One day I was driving down the farm track in the pickup,with two of the little boys, aged about four or five, sitting beside me. One of them turned to me conversationally and said, "Baba, don't worry. When you get old one day you'll be sitting here where we are, and we'll be driving you around!

I’ve been telling you that you should hire Warren.” “Nat, I’m not going to hire Warren.” “Why not?” I opened my mouth to tell her exactly why not, but as I stared at her too-bright blue eyes and the way her chin was quivering, I chickened out. “Because…because I promised Angus when he left that he could have his job back.” “Adrien, he was involved in a murder.” “But he was very good at alphabetizing.

Donna say no. If you are, do it now and leave me alone. I can't take this, Maggie. You're killing me by small degrees.

The skies were filled with an unreal fire; blue, burnt with amber, red, orange and yellow. This fire was no natural thing. It clawed across the sky, and below it all life shivered and retreated. The land lay scorched, the mountains and glens trembling. The man stood pale in the false light, a statue, watching. Then he moved, shaking off the stillness, and looked towards the power that shook the world. His clenched fist opened and clean white light leapt to the sky. A huge concussion rocked the mountains. All light was quenched. The sky turned black, then clear and blue. A distant rainbow promised that all was well and God still cared for this lost land. Alastair Munro fell back, the soft heather a safety net, all power gone, all anger lost. Angus Ferguson was beside him as ever, a reassuring voice, a reminder of why Munro was there, why he must go on, why this was his destiny

I believe that family is closer to God's heart than anything else, the support system he has given us to build us up in faith, and to support us when we falter. If we want our family lives to conform to God's will, Jesus must be our priority, our focal point, in our home as well as in our ministries. That doesn't mean that it's always easy to live together: home can be the hardest place to live a Christian life. That's were people see us when we're tired and our defences are down.

Wasn’t it wonderful of Angus and Emma to spring for first class tickets?” “Yes.” “It’s an incredibly long flight, you know.” “Yes.” “They’ll show us a movie or two.” “Yes.” She leaned close to him, smiling. “I love traveling with you. You’re so agreeable.” He gave her an annoyed look. “Are you going to talk the whole time?” She smiled sweetly. “Yes.

All greed leads to destruction.

I shut my eyes tight in the darkness. "I believe in Jesus Christ," I said. "With God all things are possible.

Hij zegt: "Hoor eens, Georgie, je bent nu een jonge vrouw(wat was ik dan eerst, een jong paard?)

...it must be odd to have no ambition, not to want something more.

God showed how important it is to walk by faith and not by what is seen, trust Him unconditionally limits and never give up

While it was true that Angus was legally an adult, he'd taken a tumble a few years back that left him a bubble or two off center.

I snapped the crossbow into the top of the mount, took a canvas bundle from the cart, and unrolled it. Crossbow bolts, tipped with the Galahad warheads. “This is my baby.” I petted the stock. “You have a strange relationship with your weapons,” Roman said. “You have no idea,” Raphael told him. “This from a man with a living staff and a man who once drove four hours both ways for a sword he then put on his wall,” I murmured. “It was an Angus Trim,” Raphael said. “It’s a sharpened strip of metal.” “You have an Angus Trim sword?” Kate’s eyes lit up. “Bought it at an estate auction,” Raphael said. “If we get out of this alive, you are invited to come to my house and play with it.” It was good that Curran wasn’t here and I was secure in our relationship, because that totally could be taken the wrong way.

Cocking his head, the demon frowned. He stared at me as if he'd ordered a tender marinated filet, but instead had ended up with a cheap flat beef patty. I was sort of offended. I was 100 percent organic Angus beef, thank you very much.

Meeting writers is always so disappointing. I got over wanting to meet live writers quite a long time ago. There is this terrific book that has changed your life, and then you meet the author, and he has shifty eyes and funny shoes and he won't talk about anything except the injustice of the United States income tax structure toward people with fluctuating income, or how to breed Black Angus cows, or something.

One day I was on a walk with him and my dog, Angus, who was sniffing around in a bush outside a neighbor’s house. My dad turned to me and said, “Look at the dog’s asshole.” “What? Why?” “You can tell by the dilation of his asshole that he’s going to shit soon. See. There it goes.” It was at that moment, as my dog emptied his bowels in my neighbor’s yard and my dad stood there proudly watching his prediction come true, that I realized how wise, even prophetic, he really is.

Als ik niet naar het feest kan vanwege haar lesbische lust, GAAT JUFFROUW STAMP DOOD, ZE GAAT DOOD.

Wat betekent dat, als een jongen zijn hand op je borst legt? Betekent het dat hij een geilneef is? Of was zijn hand gewoon moe?

Do you miss your dad?" And I said: "Who?

life expectancy among working-class white Americans had been decreasing since the early 2000s. In modern history the only obvious parallel was with Russia in the desperate aftermath of the fall of the Soviet Union. One journalistic essay and academic research paper after another confirmed the disaster, until the narrative was capped in 2015 by Anne Case and Angus Deaton’s famous account of “deaths of despair.

Myth is a cloud based upon a shadow based upon the movement of the breeze.

The first time I saw him I didn’t know if he was wearing a beard or eating a muskrat.

If poverty is not a result of lack of resources or opportunities, but of poor institutions, poor government, and toxic politics, giving money to poor countries—particularly giving money to the governments of poor countries—is likely to perpetuate and prolong poverty, not eliminate it. The

To worry about these consequences of extreme inequality has nothing to do with being envious of the rich and everything to with the fear that rapidly growing top incomes are a threat to the wellbeing of everyone else.

When ye've lived as long as I have, ye realize how relative time is. I've endured centuries that passed in the blink of an eye as if I were barely breathing.' He stopped and faced her. 'Or I can experience an entire lifetime in the span of a few nights. All the hope and passion that makes life worth living, 'tis suddenly surrounding me like a gift from God.' (Angus MacKay)

It is the search for beauty...That is what it is. We find ourselves on this earth--gods and men--and we know that it is beautiful. That is one of the few things we understand--beauty; because it is there, in the world, and we can see it all about us. We want beauty. It requires our love. It just does.

At the beginning of the eighteenth century, as the British economic historian Angus Maddison has demonstrated, India’s share of the world economy was 23 per cent, as large as all of Europe put together. (It had been 27 per cent in 1700, when the Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb’s treasury raked in £100 million in tax revenues alone.) By the time the British departed India, it had dropped to just over 3 per cent. The reason was simple: India was governed for the benefit of Britain. Britain’s rise for 200 years was financed by its depredations in India.

It was perfect. The birds and the sky and the yellow leaves of Autumn. This was what it was, this life. It was tenuous and frail and yet fraught with beauty, and with beauty comes sadness. If you opt in to loving then you opt in to being human, to having your heart break a million times over. It's a circle of sorts. The more you go round the more laughter you find, the more laughter, the more joy, the more sadness. That is what life is. I felt something warm in my heart and I reached for Angus' hand.

Why? What kind of man would pleasure his woman by hurting her.' Angus paced across the path. ''Tis a man's duty, nay, his privilege, to give his woman all the pleasure she can bear. She should be panting and writhing with pleasure.' Emma remained silent, staring at him. Did she not believe him? He walked toward her. 'A real man would take all night if need be to make sure his woman was fully sated. She should be screaming that she canna endure any more.' Emma's eyes widened. 'It should be a man's greatest pleasure to see his woman shuddering in the throes of passion.' She took a deep breath and shifted her weight from one foot to another. He paced back and forth. 'Only when she is begging for him should a man see to his own needs. And he should never, ever harm her.' He stopped in front of her 'Am I totally wrong in this?' 'No,' she squeaked.

Gentlemen?” Dr Nari Zhang appeared at the door. Angus jumped. “Jesus.” He looked down at the thick socks on her feet, which were intriguingly dainty. The new doc was way too appealing for him to be this irritated with her. Which only pissed him off more. “New rule. You keep the loud shoes on all day. No changing into socks.” She rolled her eyes. “I had hoped to talk to all three of you about the shooting yesterday. It had to have brought up difficult memories. How did everyone sleep?” “Fantastic,” West said smoothly. “Never better,” Wolfe agreed. “Like a baby,” Angus said. Nari sighed. “You’re all morons. You can take that as my professional opinion.

16.00 uur: Net ontdekt dat Libby mijn laatste maandverbandjes gebruikt heeft als hangmatten voor haar poppen. 16.30 uur: Ze heeft ook al mijn foundation op haar panda gesmeerd, zijn hoofd is nu helemaal beige. 17.00 uur: Ik heb geen foundation meer en ook geen geld. Ik ben bang dat ze eraan gaat. 17.15 uur: Nee. Rust. Ohmmmmmm. Innerlijke rust.

Ik lag op mijn arm tot er geen gevoel meer in zat en toen tilde ik hem op (met mijn nietgevoelloze arm) en legde hem op mijn borsten. Ik wilde weten hoe het voelde om een vreemde hand op je borsten te hebben. Het was wel aangenaam, maar wat weet ik er nou van? Ik zit vol rare verlangens om helder te kunnen denken. Moet ik mijn beha aan naar het feest?

Angus had been hurt deeply by what John Peter had done, that he might have lost a friend in such a horrible way. I could see that. But even aside from the stupid thing John Peter had done, Angus was hurting for me, feeling my pain, taking it with him as he rode off. He might not have understood all of what I was feeling but he had embraced it. He didn't get it after Millie died, but now he knew what loss could do to a person. Empathy just might save the world one day.

Father Travis leaned back. I glanced up at him. He was watching us from under his brow, his hands folded in his lap. His eyes had taken on that cyborg gleam. His cheekbones looked like they were going to break right through his skin. Not only did he own a copy of Alien, not only did he have an amazing and terrible wound, but he had called us humiliating names without actually resorting to the usual swear words. Besides that there was the deft speed with which he’d caught Angus, the free weights beside the television, the fancy Michelob. It was almost enough to make a boy want to be a Catholic.

Life isn't just to be found, you have to work for it.

The great majority of “consumption” (throughput) does not involve individual product users at all. For example, the average rate at which people produce waste, mentioned above by [Jared] Diamond, is calculated by dividing the total population into the total waste. But since 99 percent of all solid waste in the United States today comes from industrial processes, eliminating all household waste would have little effect on per capita waste. Diamond’s “average rate” is meaningless.

Do you remember what I told you? About the philosophy behind this? That something which is unique has its own beauty that can never be destroyed; that it’s always worth mending, even when it’s broken; and that the fractures and the scars become part of the beauty too, making the piece even more remarkable, even more precious.” And then she said, “Heal your heart, Ella. Let Angus help you. Mend your marriage with veins of the purest gold and remake it, better and stronger than before.” And we did. Because, you see, Kendra, I fell in love with your grandfather all over again. Caroline was right: our love was worth mending. In the end, we made the scars part of the beauty of our marriage.’ She

This is an important one, Angus,” I said, holding my list of Esperanto words, “but I have no idea how to define it for him.” “What is it?” “Sekura.” “What does it mean?” “Safe.” We sat in silence for a while, Angus holding his chin in mock thought, me staring at the word and coming up blank, Bertie between us both, unresponsive. “Hug him, missus,” said Angus. “Hug him?” “Yeah. I reckon the only time any of us feel really safe is when our mum’s hugging us.

Will he come to me, Dream Angus, Come quietly through the evening light, Come when I do not expect him, and I am sleepy, Come when I am drowsy, when I am ready for rest; Will he come to me, Dream Angus? ... Will I see the birds about his head, The birds that are his kisses? Will I believe that each of us, Even he who thinks himself unloved, May be transformed, made different By one who finds him marvellous? Will I think that? ... Will he bring me some sort of quietus, Some form of understanding; will he break my heart; Will he show me my love; will he give Me heart's contentment, the end of sorrow, Will he do that for me; will he do that? ...

Dear Mr. Duke, As requested, here is an inventory of the animals in my care: *Bixby, a two-legged terrier. *Marigold, a nanny goat of unimpeachable character, who is definitely not breeding. *Angus, a three-year-old Highland steer. *Regan, Goneril, and Cordelia- laying hens. *Delilah, a parrot. *Hubert, an otter. *Freya, a hedgehog. *Thirteen kittens of varying colors and dispositions. Gabe leafed through the report in disbelief. It went on for pages. She'd given not only the names, breeds, and ages of every misbegotten creature, but she'd appended a chart of temperaments, sleeping schedules, preferred bedding, and a list of dietary requirements that would beggar a moderately successful tradesman. Along with the expected hay, alfalfa, corn, and seed, the animals required several pounds of mince weekly, daily pints of fresh cream, and an ungodly number of sardines. The steer and thee goat, she insisted, must go to the same loving home. Apparently they were tightly bonded, whatever that meant, and refused to eat of parted. The laying hens did not actually lay with any regularity. Their previous owners had grown frustrated with this paltry production, and thus they had come into Her Ladyship's care. And the lucky bastard who accepted a ten-year-old hedgehog? Well, he must not only provide a steady supply of mealworms, but remain ever mindful of certain "traumatic experiences in her youth.

I'm not blind,you know." His gaze flicked down to her breasts, interestingly encased in her tight riding habit. "I can see very well." Her cheeks flushed, and she tried to pull away again. Behind Dougal came a bang, like the sound of a large door slamming, and Sophia's eyes widened. "Angus, no!" she cried. "Ye misbegotten bounder!" Angus roared. Dougal turned just in time to see a huge fist hit him squarely in the eye. Thanks to Sophia, who'd jumped up and clung tightly to Angus's huge arm, the punch was softened. Otherwise, not only would it have knocked Dougal down (which it did), and not only would it have sent the world dark (which it did), and not only would it have blackened his eye (which it did), but it also might have killed him. Instead, Angus's slowed fist merely smashed into Dougal's face, spun him around, and laid him out as neatly as a piece of firewood.

I believe I will sit,but not on this chair. The settee is the most welcoming piece in the room,especially with you sitting on it." "Yes,but-" He sat,his hip brushing hers. She scrambled to move to one side, but he'd deliberately sat on the edge of her skirt. Her gaze narrowed, and she said stiffly, "I beg your pardon,but you are sitting on my skirt." Dougal smiled and leaned back, resting his arms along the back of the settee so that she was closed in by him. He found himself charmed by the thought. "Lord MacLean, I have asked you kindly to remove yourself from my skirt. Please do so, or I will be forced to take more drastic measures." "Such as?" "Calling for Angus," she said flatly. "In case you didn't notice, my butler is larger than the average servant. He could easily pick you up and break you in two." Dougal quirked a brow. "While that behemoth you call a butler could easily pick me up, he'd have to get close to me first." She smiled smugly, setting Dougal's pride on edge. "I wouldn't try him; he's faster than he looks." She cast a glancedown at Dougal's boot. "Plus, you'd have to race through the barnyard, which could prove fatal to your shine." Damn this woman! She taunted with every phrase, teased with every look. He shifted so that his hip was even more firmly pressed to hers.