By Monica McCarty
Framed for against the law he didn't dedicate, Duncan Campbell, the illegitimate son of a chieftain, has again to the Highlands decided to transparent his identify after ten years in exile. he's interested in the unforgettable sensual great thing about Jeannie Gordon, the headstrong woman who as soon as pledged him her love, gave him her innocence, after which betrayed him. Now, within the glow of the moonlight, she defiantly exhibits Duncan the undesirable finish of a pistol.
Jeannie is surprised to find that the broad-chested brigand she simply shot is the rogue who broke her middle years in the past. not a starry-eyed woman yet a girl with risky secrets and techniques, Jeannie can't forgive Duncan’s shattering distrust of her–nor can she signal his demise warrant through turning him in. quickly ardour flares warmer and bolder than sooner than, sealing a destiny the onetime fanatics can not deny. stuck up in a perilous online game of homicide and intrigue, Jeannie is prepared to chance every little thing for a guy and a love she vows by no means to lose back.
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Additional info for Highland Scoundrel
Instinctively, Jeannie stiffened, bracing herself for what was coming next. ” As if red was some kind of mark for a spirited and adventuresome—if occasionally ill-conceived—temperament. The Laird of Menzies's remark had not just affected her; her father tensed as well. But to her surprise, rather than a subtle barb, the old laird said, “Your mother could light up a room with her beauty and her smile. Such energy, such light. ” He smiled with a wistful shake of his head. ” He met Jeannie's gaze and the crinkle around his eyes deepened.
A frown betrayed his unease. He knew she was a strong swimmer, but she'd been under a long time. He took a step toward the loch, but was forced to step quickly back when she suddenly exploded out of the water like a sea nymph in a spray of effervescent light. She'd surfaced near the shore, perhaps only twenty feet separated them now, enabling him to see her clearly. Too damned clearly. Hair slicked back, and water dripping from her face, she emerged from the loch like Venus rising from the sea and headed straight toward him.
He swallowed, trying to clear the taste from his mouth. Ten damned years and he could still taste her on his tongue, still remember the sweet press of her breast against his teeth as he'd sucked her deep into his mouth. His nostrils flared. He could still smell the fragrant honeysuckle of her skin. Not even his steely control could prevent the sudden rush of blood surging through his veins. He swore under his breath, the lack of control infuriating him. But the vile oath didn't begin to summarize his anger at the realization that no matter how he felt about her, he was only a man, and for all his vaunted control, a hot-blooded one at that.