Highlander (1992) s05e05 Episode Script

When I am gone, dream me some happiness.
Nor let thy looks our long-hid love confess.
Nor praise, nor dispraise me, nor blesse nor curse openly love's force-- What is wrong, fair lass? Oh, save me, kind sir.
Save me for pity's sake.
What miserable villain would take liberties with one so fair? Oh, a monster.
A depraved, unspeakable beast.
Coventry.
Fear not.
None shall harm you save he first defeat me.
There you are! Damned wench.
I warned you what would happen if you ever tried to leave me.
Now get back to my bedchamber! I would rather die.
Oh, you will wish it so, once I have had my way.
The lady does not want you.
And any fool can see why.
I have flayed men alive for less.
And I have heard frogs croak louder.
You dare to insult me? I believe I do.
Th-Th-Then you are a fool, and you shall soon be a dead fool.
You must not know to whom you are speaking.
Oh, I believe I do.
Now, let me see.
No, do not coach me.
I want to get it right.
A bully, a warthog and one who makes up in sheer ugliness for what he lacks in, uh, other areas.
You shall need more than fine manners and a sharp tongue to save you now, sir.
- I have a sharp sword.
- Oh.
Oh, Duncan! Oh! Drop the blade, or she dies.
I swear I'll kill her where she stands.
You coward! You harm one hair on her head, and you'll have to answer to Duncan MacLeod.
Drop it.
Drop it now.
Roxanne hoped that this stranger would somehow save her, but with the brutish Coventry's blade at her throat, all seemed lost.
Hah! Then suddenly-- And? And? So what happens? Does he save her? For that, you'll have to buy the book.
Ladies and gentlemen, Carolyn Marsh.
Carolyn's available to sign your books now.
Let's get in line.
For sure.
She's here right now.
I read her last book.
He is Duncan MacLeod, the Highlander.
Born in 1592, in the Highlands of Scotland, and he is still alive.
He is immortal.
For 400 years, he's been a warrior, a lover, a wanderer, constantly facing other Immortals in combat to the death.
The winner takes his enemy's head and with it, his power.
I am a Watcher, part of a secret society of men and women who observe and record, but never interfere.
We know the truth about Immortals.
In the end, there can be only one.
May it be Duncan MacLeod, the Highlander.
Here we are Born to be kings We're the princes of the universe I am immortal I have inside me blood of kings I have no rival No man can be my equal Take me to the future of your world Well, that's it.
Would you believe I maxed out all my credit cards? Everything except your library card, huh? Speaking of books, I have something I want to read to you.
"As he strode into the room, she felt her knees weaken.
"The dark eyes that roved over her were the color of midnight, his muscles as hard as the Highland hills that formed him.
" - Sounds like Shakespeare.
- Not finished.
"A mane of flowing hair to rival Lancelot's charger.
" Must be Fabio.
"This was the man her father had hired to protect her-- "this barbarian, this smoky-eyed Scot, this Duncan MacLeod.
" What? What? Coarse manners, a hairy mole.
Coventry was swine from head to toe.
A conniving, backstabbing-- Gerald! Gerald! Sir? I will kill her.
I will absolutely kill her.
Buchanan Books.
Find out who's the editor of this miserable piece of dreck, and then find me the author.
Immediately, sir.
I warned you you would never get away with a stunt like this.
Well, now you're going to pay.
I don't believe it.
Neither do I.
"Muscles as hard as the Highland hills"? I meant someone actually writing this stuff.
I thought maybe you wrote it yourself, except I met the writer.
Who is this Carolyn Marsh? I thought maybe you knew.
- You don't think I'd tell some mortal about my life.
- You have before.
But not some romance novelist.
Well, someone did, because you are a best-seller, baby.
That's not fun-- Listen to this! "Roxanne's breath came in labored gasps "as he crushed his lips to hers.
Her hands reached for his kilt, where they found--" Wait a minute! I didn't read that.
Well, you know.
Oh, so it's a little purple.
The prose, I mean.
Very funny.
This isn't even close to the way it happened.
Terence wasn't a lout.
I was coming from Highgate.
I'd been riding so long, I was starting to smell like my horse.
Help! Help me! He's after me! Sir, oh, help me, please.
I beg you! What seems to be the problem? Oh, that pig! He's trying to take advantage of me maidenly honor.
It's a little late for that, is it not? So, thought you could take advantage of a gentleman.
Oh, save me, kind sir, from a fate worse than death! Please! I beg your pardon, sir, but this is none of your affair.
I'm afraid it is.
It seems you're distressing this lady.
Stand clear, sir.
This hussy and I have a score to settle.
I beg to differ, sir.
She's under my protection now.
Do you know what you are protecting? A lady in need.
That's no lady, sir.
I beg your pardon! Your opinion of her is of no matter to me.
I'm amazed how easily you can discard what you have not heard.
Whatever she is she needs my help.
Oh, spare me.
I'm Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod.
- Oh.
- I don't wish to fight you.
But I will protect what's left of the lady's honor.
Terence Coventry, and it's clear she has none left to protect.
You've been duped, sir.
She's a common thief, a barmaid who stole my purse.
Harsh words, sir.
Where's your proof? There.
- Giddap! Come back with my horse! See? See how chivalry is rewarded? There is no justice! I'd buy you an ale to drown your sorrows, but she stole every penny I had.
At least you have a horse.
If you would not mind, sir, to give me a ride to the next town, - I'll buy the ale.
- Oh.
We can discuss the death of chivalry.
Done! Gentlemen of our caliber should stick together.
Especially when we're taken advantage of by-- by-- A hussy of that sort? Actually, I had a better word in mind.
Biabest, giddap! I say, MacLeod, you could use a bath.
That's not me.
That's the horse.
Oh, my! Duncan MacLeod? No.
I'd like to speak to the editor of the Carolyn Marsh books, please.
It's regarding the Blade of the MacLeods.
You wouldn't happen to be Scottish, would you? No, I don't want to be put through to her fan club, thank you.
You know, I can't believe you're taking this so seriously.
Why not? This is my name, my life! What am I supposed to do? Ignore it? Well, well, well.
Look what the cat dragged in.
What's she doing here? By the looks of it, I'd say she's shopping for tenderloin.
Excuse me.
Can I help you? Please just tell me that you're Duncan MacLeod.
Okay, I'm Duncan MacLeod.
Oh, but you're perfect.
Just perfect.
Thank you.
Something smells kind of funny in here.
It's probably lust.
Uh, Duncan, this is Carolyn Marsh, the lady with the book.
You don't say! Do I know you? The book signing this morning.
Oh! You know, I have so many fans.
Just another face in the crowd.
You know how it is.
Duncan-- I may call you Duncan, right? Absolutely.
We need to talk.
I agree.
And I think it would be so much easier to discuss things over a drink.
Well, why don't we justall sit and talk and have a drink? - Oh, I don't think that's necessary.
- Oh, I do! - This is business.
- Well, in that case, I insist.
Ladies! Ladies! I can walk.
Your book's quite imaginative.
And you're wondering where I get my ideas.
A lot of people ask that.
Really? Well, it's simple.
Duncan MacLeod is real.
For 400 years, the name's been popping up in legends all over the world.
Scotland, Italy, Turkey.
Turkey? Imagine that.
Always the same story.
A warrior comes down from the Highlands, fighting battles, protecting the weak.
Always Duncan MacLeod.
What do you think of that? Fascinating.
It used to drive me crazy, and then I finally figured it out.
I know the truth.
The what? Uh, uh, excuse me just one-- Um, what is the truth? What does man need most? Besides that.
Heroes.
And if there aren't any, he creates them.
Duncan MacLeod exists because we want him to exist.
We need him to exist.
So, you don't actually think it's the same guy? Are you nuts? He'd have to be immortal.
That's very funny.
About this book-- Books.
A whole series of them, set in different time periods.
It's a gimmick.
But to really sell it, I need today's Duncan MacLeod.
And that's where you come in.
- That's where I get out.
- It's a gold mine! I'm not interested.
Look, I've seen your "doh-bro," or whatever you call it, and I've seen Dumpsters with better facilities.
That's true, I agree, but it's, it's him.
Well, I know you need the cash, so what's the deal here? There is no deal.
Well, maybe I should do a little research into Duncan MacLeod.
Oh, what, and find out he was born in the Highlands of Scotland 400 years ago? -Maybe he has something to hide.
What will it take for you to get off my back? Come to the party my publisher is throwing.
Just give it a try.
- If you don't like it, I'm gone.
Or should I set the research drones to work? Okay, one time, one party.
No publicity, no press, no pictures.
That's the deal.
Okay.
Deal.
But try to come alone.
Not in your lifetime.
Uh, I'm just gonna go over there for just one second.
No.
I'll be back in one minute.
I'll be back-- Will you sign my book? Oh, hi there.
Um, yes, in a moment.
Please? Ohh.
Thank you.
I hate this.
Oh, yeah, right.
Now, you agreed.
Besides, I don't remember any torture chamber.
What other choice did I have? Oh, you love being the Scottish action hero.
Oh, don't be ridiculous! But I guess I'll have to live with it.
So, Tim, what's the body count so far? So far, three reviewers and aVanity Faireditor had to have smelling salts.
- Carolyn, it's absolutely brilliant! What did I tell you? Didn't I tell you? He's a gold mine.
Oh, he's gorgeous, that's what he is.
Camera's gonna love him.
- He's coming over.
- Be still, my beating heart.
-Oh, my! - Duncan, this is my publicist, Tim.
- Hi.
Nice to meet you.
- Pleasure.
-Carolyn, in your research on the MacLeods, did you happen to come across any archetypal women-- you know, goddess types? Oh, he got tangled up with someone once in, uh, Turkey.
But she was just a cheap whore and a thief.
- Not really worth mentioning.
- Really? Would you excuse us for a moment? We've just got something to discuss.
In private.
What now? Maybe it's the real Duncan MacLeod.
Funny.
Very funny.
If it isn't the superhero himself.
Duncan MacLeod.
Terence Coventry.
You here for me? Don't flatter yourself.
No.
I'm here for her.
If anyone had a reason to kill her, it should be me.
I'm the one with my name on the cover.
I'm the pig with the mole on my face.
A hairy mole.
Do you see a mole? Do I dress like a pig? No, but, Terence, I wouldn't worry about it.
It's just a book.
It'll be forgotten in a few months.
Oh, fine for you to talk.
You're the damned hero.
I, meanwhile, am a spineless coward who tries to kill unarmed women.
You think that's bad? She called me a cheap whore and a thief! I was never cheap.
Terence, I don't like it either, but you can't kill a defenseless mortal.
Says who? Uh, hold that a minute, would you? We haven't finished yet.
She needs to have an accident.
Break her writing arm.
Have her jaw wired.
No, I'd use poison.
Maybe a big rock.
What about a stake through the heart? I do like the way you think.
Mr.
MacLeod, such a pleasure.
Oh, thank you.
Thank you very much.
There you are.
You're not supposed to be disappearing.
That's not our deal.
You're on display.
I don't like being on display.
Don't pout.
It's not attractive.
Your public's waiting.
I tell you what.
You've made your rounds already.
Why don't we get out of here? Why, Duncan, that would be premature evacuation, n'est-ce pas? Why the rush? Uh, I'll tell you later.
Where are we going? Bali? The Highlands? Oh, anywhere you like.
Okay, your place.
- What, now? - Excuse me.
Uh, now, now.
See that guy? He tried to steal my wallet.
Hold on, please.
Carolyn! Carolyn! Did you try to take his wallet, sir? Do I know you? It's simple, really.
Duncan MacLeod is every woman's sexual fantasy-- a warrior with the heart of a poet.
I'd really love to meet him.
But he's more than that.
He's a man of ethics, principles.
He's a tragic romantic figure.
And if he didn't exist, we'd have to invent him.
So what did you learn from this fantasy? Do you really want to know? Oh, absolutely.
The first time Duncan MacLeod turns up, he's a chieftain's son, raised to lead a Highland clan.
He fell in love with the daughter of a neighboring chieftain, but she was pledged in marriage to his kinsman.
You know, a real Romeo and Juliet kind of thing.
Aye, you're a good lad.
Duncan! Their love was so strong, so pure, it couldn't be denied.
But he gave it all up for honor.
You spoke to me father.
What did he say? Aye, we spoke.
Oh, Duncan, no.
We love each other.
He nay moved, Debra.
You're to marry my cousin Robert, and that's the end of it.
You're the chieftain's son.
There has to be something you can do.
Do you not think I've tried? This is a joining of the clans, the Campbells and the MacLeods.
Our clans will be joined when I marry you.
You're pledged to him.
We cannot be.
When you look at this, think of me.
What are you saying? I'm leaving.
Then take me with you.
We'll go together, start over somewhere.
I'll nay dishonor you, Debra, nor shame my family.
I will marry him if I must, Duncan, but please do not leave me.
I have to see you, even if it's only across the village.
You're the love of my life, Debra Campbell.
Two strong men in love with the same woman? Of course there was a fight.
Damn you, Duncan! You've turned her heart against me.
She cannie help her heart! No more than I can help mine.
You'll not make me a cuckold.
Draw your blade.
On a clansman? Let me pass.
Not before you give me satisfaction.
Robert, we've been friends all our lives.
I cannie fight you.
Coward! If you were not kin, you'd be dead where you stand.
You'll not walk away on this! Not while I live.
A challenge is made-- no MacLeod can turn his back on such words.
- But, Father, he's kin.
- And you're a chieftain's son! Robert, withdraw the challenge.
I dinna want your blood.
Aye, but I want yours.
You have your satisfaction.
Robert.
Robert! Duncan.
You can't die, Robert.
He killed his own cousin, the boy he'd grown up with.
After all this, it wasn't to be.
Debra! The tragic part is she died anyway.
All the love in his heart couldn't save her.
No! Debra! He left his clan shortly after that.
Just rode away into the mist.
They say he's wandered the world ever since.
Yeah.
You know, they still tell that story in a little village in Scotland.
Glenfinnan.
On the shores of Loch Shiel, yeah.
How did you know? It's in your book.
You're right.
And I thought you weren't a fan.
Well-- Imagine the loss.
Wandering the earth alone, longing for love, companionship, warmth, Yeah.
with no one to truly understand his soul and to share his pain.
Would do anything for that man.
I would willingly be his slave.
Yeah, but no, it's not-- I want it! You want it! Stop fighting! Well, yippee-ki-yay.
The rodeo's in town.
Didn't you ever learn how to knock? Oh, you'd be surprised what I learned.
Would you like me to show you? Amanda, this isn't exactly what you think.
What I'm thinking, Duncan, you don't want to know.
- Uh-- - Thirty bucks for the cabbie who brought me back.
Uh, oh, yeah, of course.
Right here.
Look, uh-- I'll go and pay it right away.
And don't-- Just don't.
Keep the change.
Oh, not now! Where is she? Who? Do you think I'm a fool? Carolyn Marsh, the author.
Who else? A sable mane, muscles hard as hills.
Eyes like potatoes, or whatever the hell she said.
You're sleeping with her.
Uh, why would I want to do that? To make yourself look good and to make me look a fool.
I swear, I haven't been anywhere near her.
No? "As Duncan's lips crushed her to him, her hands went to his britches.
" Kilt.
Bastard! Well, you know.
Don't get between us again.
Damn elevator's never there when you want it.
Where is she? She's gone.
- On the elevator? - On her broom.
Oh, no! Oh! Oh, Carolyn, wait.
I don't think you should go home tonight.
Oh, right.
I don't think your girlfriend will understand.
There's nothing to understand.
Oh, man.
First thing you do is get yourself to that all-night florist on Water Street.
Two dozen white roses should do the trick.
Oh, no, not again.
Back door.
The back door? I'm an author.
Carolyn! Carolyn! Where are you? I know you're here somewhere.
I heard her voice.
Didn't I? - Where is she? - She's not here, Terence.
She's not here.
Look.
Go home.
I shall not forget this.
You, sir, are a skunk! A skunk.
Oh, great.
"Her naked flesh trembled under his touch.
"Slowly, slowly she lay back on the satin pillows, "letting them caress her ivory skin.
"She was about to be transported beyond any world she had ever known.
"Her every breath anticipated what she knew must come.
"Her silken blonde tresses cascaded over both their bodies as he caressed her.
"She had been kissed by men before, but never like this.
" Tell me.
I must know.
Am I just another conquest for you? Oh, Melanie.
Out of all the women I have been with, none could ever match you.
If I live a thousand years, none ever could.
Then take me.
Take me.
Duncan? Duncan? - Look who's here! Isn't he beautiful? Mr.
MacLeod-- Duncan-- I'm so glad you could make it.
Oh, that's okay.
Could we have a word, please? Not now, Duncan.
We've got to get to work, and you've got to get into character.
I had this flown in from Western Costume in Hollywood.
It's real Clan MacLeod tartan.
It's very nice, but I'm not here to play Duncan MacLeod for you.
Oh, I see.
Well, put it to me in two words or less.
Terence Coventry.
Tim, give me five.
Why bring up Terence Coventry? He's the villain in my book.
And he was at your party yesterday.
Drop the act, Carolyn.
What's between you and Terence? All right.
Terence and I-- We were once an item.
- And? - And now we're not.
Oh.
So you made him the villain in your book just to get back at him.
Writers do it all the time.
And he deserves it.
You expect him to walk away and do nothing? I don't want to talk about this.
That's a switch.
Look, I don't need advice from a cover model.
Are you gonna do this Duncan MacLeod thing or not? Hmm.
Not.
Well, who's gonna wear the kilt? Mel Gibson.
I told you she was trouble.
Why go there in the first place? To try to get her to stop.
She can't keep doing this to Terence.
Can't keep doing this to me either.
What, making you a hero? That's a problem? She tried to get me to wear a kilt.
Really? I-I kind of like you in a kilt.
You've got nice legs.
Thank you.
Very flattering.
But no, thank you.
Mmm.
So you're finished with all this, then? Absolutely.
Very nice.
-I just love all of your books.
- Enjoy.
Thank you.
Who shall I dedicate this to? How about Terence, the beastly boor? In case you haven't noticed, I'm busy.
I know.
Sticking knives in my back.
I have a right to make a living.
Not like this.
You can't do this to me.
- Do you see a mole? Am I that ugly? I ask you again.
Am I that ugly? Here.
Let me write something.
- "Dear Terence, Screw you.
" I suggest you take a hike before Duncan MacLeod gets here.
Oh.
You put me down right now! I will scream! Go ahead, scream.
Thanks.
Now, if you thought Terence was that mad, why did you leave? Because she made me mad, and it was turning into a circus.
Right.
So she pisses you off, and you leave her to the wolves.
Oh, hey, I would've done the same thing.
Well, good.
Glad that's sorted out.
But what would the real Duncan MacLeod have done? I am the real Duncan MacLeod.
Well, I don't know what the fuss is all about.
To tell the truth, it wouldn't bother me if you did kill her.
You here for me? I'm here for her.
- What? - Oh, no! MacLeod! I think when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping.
What did he look like? Well, he was a handsome brute.
He was so insistent.
Threw her over his shoulder and dragged her out of here.
Oh, it was incredibly romantic.
Did you catch a name? Sorry.
Oh, wait.
He left this.
Terence.
What did I say? Terence, it's my book, and I'll put in it what I want to.
Not when you use my name you won't.
And how can you make me such a tasteless bastard? I suppose I should've made you the hero.
You should never have written any of it.
Are you finished? Carolyn, why are you doing this? Look, Terence, let's just call it quits.
I'll go my way, and you'll go yours.
And what about the book? That's all you're interested in, isn't it? Wait until you see the sequel.
No.
No, it's not all I'm interested in.
Look, just come to the house tonight for dinner.
What, so your servants can hold me down and you can put a knife through my heart? It'll just be you and me.
I'll even make dinner.
All by yourself? And then we'll sit around for the next five hours while you tell me what a hero you've been and how many women you've had? You talk, and I'll listen.
That'll be something different.
Please, just say yes.
Maybe.
I think Duncan'll like this.
Don't you? He'll love it on me.
Well, I think you should get last year's model.
I hear it's a little roomier.
Why spend money on a dress? It'll come right off the first guy gets within 15 feet.
You both look absolutely fabulous.
Are you sisters? Listen, honey, I'd forget MacLeod.
You are way out of your league.
He and I go back a long way.
And to think, I wasn't going to bring age into this.
Listen, you garden-variety slug, I read your little book.
You think you're gonna turn MacLeod into your fantasy lover with you as the damsel in distress? Get real.
Just look at you.
You're not even close.
You never will be.
How dare you! What did I say? Hey, are-are you okay? What difference does it make? Just go away.
You're not okay.
What the hell do you know? I know when someone's a complete wreck when I see them.
Look, don't cry.
It's gonna be all right.
It's gonna be all right.
That's a $5,000 dress.
Put it on my card.
Would you just tell me about it? No.
There's this man.
When isn't there? It's not MacLeod? Are you in love with him? No, I hate him.
No, you don't.
Take it from me.
Just tell me what happened.
You were right.
I'm out of my league.
He said that to you? He didn't have to.
I just know.
Rule number one with men: You never assume what they're thinking.
Look, I'm sure there's thousands of guys who would be thrilled to be book covers for Carolyn Marsh.
Carol Ann Marshak.
From Newark, New Jersey.
Carolyn Marsh is the kind of name publishers like because it's classy and elegant, like you.
Come on.
You had me fooled.
Right.
Maybe if I lived a few hundred years like you, I could get it right.
How much do you know? A little.
A lot.
Oh, boy.
And the books, all that stuff about theBlade of the MacLeods? Well, they're true stories.
And it was a good way to get back at Terence.
Terence.
You're in love with Terence Coventry? I was.
We met about six years ago at a charity ball.
Everyone was in costume, and he looked so good in his waistcoat.
And then he started telling me these stories about some relative who'd been a wandering bard and a swordsman for hire.
I told him he should write a book, and he just laughed at me.
And I fell in love.
Well, why not happily ever after, then? Well, he told me about being immortal-- that the stories were true, and they were about him.
I mean, it was everything I'd ever dreamed of, read about my whole life.
He'd been there.
He'd been with princesses and queens.
He was gonna live forever.
And me? I'm just gonna get old and fat.
And I'll always be from Newark.
It was just a matter of time.
And so you left him first, and then you changed all the stories and came on to MacLeod.
I wanted to hurt him, to make him angry.
Well, congratulations.
It worked.
If he doesn't kill you, he's gonna kill-- Oh, my God! MacLeod.
Turkey.
Oh! What are you doing here? Where is Carolyn? On her way.
We'd like to be alone, if you don't mind.
You don't think I'm gonna leave her here with you, do you? Always the hero.
Sounds like you're starting to believe your own publicity.
What are you planning to do? Be the lady's champion on a white charger? If I have to.
Not again.
Not now.
You're not a very good cook, are you? How dare you, sir! En garde.
- Are you nuts? - No, I'm not nuts.
I should've finished you off back then.
Back when? You couldn't even finish off a meal.
Hah! Missed! Yah! Ha-ha! No, I didn't.
All right.
Oh, so, you wanna get serious, huh? Huh? Oh, Carolyn, hi.
We were just, uh-- Fighting over me? How romantic.
Uh, no.
Yes! Yes! You won't have her! - I don't want her! - Then why are you here? I'm trying to keep her away from you! What kind of hero are you, coming between a man and his wife? - She's your wife? - Like you didn't know.
- I didn't! - He didn't.
- You didn't? - He didn't.
- I wouldn't! - There is nothing between me and Carolyn.
- That's true.
- Then why did you leave me? She loves you, you big dope! What? What? Is she serious? I give up.
What's there to understand? What did you think was gonna happen, Terence? All those stories about Terence Coventry, world's greatest hero, world's greatest lover! - You swept her off her feet! - Well, of course I did.
I did? - Then what did I do wrong? - You were too good to be true.
What woman wants to compete with Helen of Troy? But she can! You can.
Those stories I told-- I told them to you because I trust you, because I wanted you to know me.
Those people, those places, they were my life.
But you-- you, Carolyn, you are my life.
Oh, Terence.
Isn't that romantic? Let's get out of here before this gets embarrassing.
Why can't you be more like that? Um, I, uh, charged it.
On what? Your library card? Think of it as a birthday present.
Hey, come back here! Amanda! I'm such a sucker for romantic stories.
I couldn't tell.
So, do you think they'll live happily ever after? As a matter of fact, yes.
Oh, you're vain.
And you are, and will always be, a big Boy Scout.
That's why you love me.
Do we love each other? In our own way.
What way is that? Amanda, you know this conversation never turns out well.
No, wait.
What never turns out well? When we try to dissect what we are.
You sound just like a man.
I am a man.
Oh, that's beside the point.
Amanda, what we have is incredibly special.
It's just not mortal love.
So? So I want you to be honest with me.
Can you do that? Hmm? Tell me.
Talk! How many years could you see us-- no, decades or centuries-- can you see us spending together? I'm not talking about every now and then.
I'm talking about every day, every hour.
What, you mean till one of us kills the other? Exactly my point.
It's just not fair.
All a girl wants is a little romance, to be swept off her feet every now and then.
Oh, now that's more like it.
Stop.
I do love you, Amanda.
"His hands caressed the nape of her neck, "hands that had killed, hands that could wield the mightiest sword, "yet now they were at her service-- "gentle, strong, sensitive, "tracing the delicate line of her hair, down her throat, "gently slipping her gown from one creamy shoulder.
Her breath quickened as his mouth approached the newly bared flesh.
" Put the book down.
But it's just getting good.
We can do better.
And here we are We're the princes of the universe Here we belong fighting for survival We've come to be the rulers of your world I am immortal I have inside me blood of kings Yeah! I have no rival No man can be my equal Take me to the future of your world