An innocent young beauty finds herself the fulcrum of a struggle for feudal power. Along with her ample dowry, Emma finds herself promised to Amaury de Aneford, a landless knight whose able sword has preserved the King's crown-and whose rugged good looks make her heart skip a beat. But on the wedding day, as a rival knight gallops toward the bridal chamber, Amaury will find that making love to his naive new bride will take consummate skill. For in the conjugal bed, Emma is astonished to learn there is more to a wedding night than just a sound sleep-and more to true love than she's ever imagined.

Iliana Wildwood would do anything to escape from the depraved baron who sought her lands - including marrying a barbarian. Fleeing the highlands, Iliana was wedded to Duncan, laird to Dunbar Castle. Certainly, there was something about the virile warrior that made her weak in the knees - but something stank in the state of Scotland, and Iliana would not trust anyone until she'd discovered the source. Determined therefore to resist her handsome husband, Iliana found a way to keep her secrets safe. Employing a belt of chastity, the spirited beauty managed to thwart the thane's advances. But then her husband changed his tactics and began a sensual assault that sent her intentions up in smoke. And as the air cleared, Iliana found it had been her heart she had locked away, and that this stubborn Scot had finally found...

It wasn't her first choice, for Seonaid Dunbar had, like her brother, been trained as a Scottish warrior at her father's knee; but fleeing to an abbey was clearly preferable to whacking on Blake Sherwell with her sword—which she'd happily do before wedding the man. No, she'd not walk weakly to the slaughter, dutifully pledge troth to anyone the English court called "Angel." Fair hair and eyes as blue as the heavens hardly proved a man's worth. There was no such thing as an English angel; only English devils. And there were many ways to elude a devilish suitor, even one that King Henry ordered her to wed. No, the next Countess of Sherwell was not sitting at home in her castle as Blake thought: embroidering, peacefully waiting for him to arrive. She was fleeing to a new stronghold and readying her defenses. Swords and sleeping drafts, Claymores and kisses. This battle would require all weapons—if he ever caught her. And the Chase was about to begin.