The surrender of a Highlander to his beautiful prisoner...
Bound by an inescapable oath, Gabhran McBray agrees to handfast the woman suspected of poisoning his brother. Yet, he stubbornly vows he will prove her guilt and make her pay. However, when green-eyes and red hair begin to haunt his every thought—when her innocence is proven—Gabhran must face the hard reality that he was wrong and an unsuspected traitor is to blame.
Held captive by the man sworn to protect her...
With no chance of proving her innocence, Rosin McPherson risks escape. Too late does she realize she will never escape Gabhran. Not in the dead of night, nor aHighlandblizzard. He would find her, and he would claim her.
Caught in a mangle of blackmail, betrayal, and feuding they fight to repel one another. Only when they unite do they understand what has happened for so long.
“Don’t try to evade me, lass. T’would not be wise,” he warned.
She tilted her chin silently, but a smug gleam lit her eyes and had him guessing she had hidden the blade for later use. Gabhran sighed. Any other time and with any other woman he might have enjoyed this, if all his strength had returned.
“Fine then. As you wish.”
She shrieked and started to dash, but in two giant strides he had her pinned against the wall, one hand holding both her wrists above her head as he slowly hiked her skirts with the other, one leisurely fistful at a time. His body pressed into hers. Their gazes locked, so close they were, and held as he splayed his fingers against her soft thigh and began running his hand up, slowly searching, until she panted a mangled gasp.
“Will you prefer to tell me where you’ve hidden the blade then?” he asked. When she still refused to cry mercy, “Come now, Rosin, or I might think you want me to search higher.” He faintly leaned his hips into her, gently rocking against her ever so slightlyunable to resist the primitive urge. Quickly he brushed aside the carnal sensation he’d stirred.
She glared, sparing no hostility. “‘Tis in my boot.”
Still, he held her stare, a mockery surely glittering back in his own eyes. He didn’t break their locked gaze as he slid down her body, letting her skirts fall back into place slowly as he went down. Gabhran skimmed his hands over her thighs as he kept the bunched gown level with his face until he rested on a knee before her. He held only the end of her garment to see inside her boot and took the knife, dropping her gown entirely.
Gabhran was minimally aware she’d had the sense to wrap the blade first, so she wouldn’t cut herself.
He laughed, a dark sultry sound, as he stood again.
He lifted her chin with a crooked finger, leaning closer. “Never fear, lassie. I brought extra bindings.”