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384 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published August 25, 2015
"Are you ugly? I found that women without an iota of appeal often appear strident.”These two really don't like one another, especially after Dalton informs Minerva that it was Neville who shot him in the face. Dalton does not know why Neville wanted him dead, but he begins to wonder if perhaps Minerva could be part of her brother's lethal plot.
“I have never measured myself by my appearance.”
“That's a lie. Every woman has.”
* * *
"Should you care so much about the appearance of other people?” she asked. "Especially since your own appearance has been so grievously altered by your stupidity.”
* * *
"I know why Neville came with me. To get away from you.”
"I can't kiss you."
"Just a taste of passion," he said
"Absolutely not."
"I have needs," he said with a smile
"As if that's my concern."
"Are you afraid?"
"Of course not. I just don't want to kiss you."
"Not at all?"
"Not one little bit. Not an iota."
"You're fibbing, Minerva"
"I'm not."
He lowered his head, brushed his lips over her heated cheek. To his surprise, she didn't move away. Slowly he traced a path to her lips, breathing against them before placing his mouth on hers. A kiss should be an appetizer. A kiss was a prelude, strings being tuned in an orchestra pit, dawn on an important day. A kiss was not a feast. A kiss was not an explosion of the senses. but this one was.
In Your Wildest Dreams (1)
The Scotsman of My Dreams (2)
An American In Scotland (3)

"We're almost always quarreling."I was turned onto this book by Ryanne and I'm so glad, because it was a lovely read! The relationship between Dalton and Minerva was so fun to watch develop; I loved the bantering between them and how their dynamic evolved. One of the things I love about the Ranney books I've read are that her stories really revolve around the hero and heroine, and their developing relationship; there is a lot of one-on-one time between the two of them, and not a lot of other needless characters or subplots added in as fluff that end up detracting from the main feature. Scotsman of My Dreams was no exception.
"Is that what you consider it?"
"What do you think it is?"
He considered it foreplay, but he wasn't going to tell her that.
"You can be the most arrogant, autocratic, rude creature it has ever been my experience to meet."
"While you, on the other hand, are impulsive, rash, and given to outlandish behavior with no thought to the consequences."
"You drove me to it."
He inclined his head in her direction.
"I beg your pardon?" he said.
"Never mind."
"Are you blaming me for your sudden decision to leave for Scotland with only your driver in attendance? A man who was once your lover?"
"You needn't shout at me, Dalton."
He hadn't realized he was yelling. He'd never yelled at anyone in his entire life. He was the master of a look, a raised eyebrow, a sardonic quip.
Minerva Todd was making him insane.
[...]
In public, they were almost proper. Here in his home, they reverted to what they were: a man and a woman teetering on the brink of some kind of relationship. He wanted to be around her. He liked having her in his life. She challenged him.
No woman had ever challenged him before. No one—save his mother—had ever made him want to make her proud.