By Connie Mason, Mia Marlowe
"Readers can continuously anticipate Mason for fast paced, intriguing adventures with designated historic backdrops that exhibit scorching ardour and steamy love scenes."—RT e-book Reviews
by no means had Elspeth Stewart imagined her marriage ceremony will be interrupted via a dark-haired stranger charging in on a black stallion, scooping her into his fingers, and wearing her off around the wild Scottish highlands. Pressed opposed to his not easy chest and nestled among his robust thighs, she should have feared for her lifestyles. yet her captor silenced all protests with a soul-searing kiss, giving Elspeth a glimpse of the discomfort at the back of his passion—a discomfort purely she may ease.
"Mad Rob" MacLaren concept stealing his rival's bride-to-be was once the correct revenge. yet Rob by no means reckoned that this pretty, blameless lass might wake up the a part of him he idea lifeless and buried along with his spouse. opposed to all cause, he longed to introduce the luscious Elspeth to the pleasures of the flesh, to make her his, and purely his, forever.
With clans opposed to them burning for conflict, they have to have the ability to affix together—body, breath, and soul. Or either could be made to pay for the... SINS OF THE HIGHLANDER
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Extra info for Sins of the Highlander
Rob picked her up back. “Ye dinna need to scoop me up like a bairn at any time when I wobble a bit,” she protested. “Aye, I do. ” “Rob, I—” “Trust me this as soon as, lass,” he stated as he tugged the cloak round to conceal her face. “’Tis on your personal stable. ” He blustered into the taproom of the tavern, saying his presence and critical the room he’d paid for. The tavern consumers had a very good snort, assuming him an overanxious bridegroom with a shy bride in his hands. a guy might enable a whore stroll as much as the room in the back of him, so Rob carried Elspeth on as much as the second-story chamber, following the sunshine of the tavern owner’s tallow candle. not anyone will be in a position to say for yes that it used to be Elspeth Stewart who spent the evening with him above the tavern’s universal room. Then Rob went backtrack to reserve their supper. He handed at the mutton, which smelled beautiful wooly, and selected the savory venison stew in its place. He ordered a pores and skin of wine, a around of cheese, and as a deal with, a loaf of genuine wheat bread rather than coarse barley, in addition to a dish of thick clotted cream. Mrs. Christie, the tavern owner’s spouse, promised to increase their supper tray presently. Rob again to the room, feeling proud of himself. The tavern was once fresh and good ordered. After a cave flooring, a cramped boat, and a witch’s borrowed mattress, he used to be ultimately offering appropriate accommodation for a woman of Elspeth’s caliber. whilst he opened the door, she was once seated on a straight-backed chair subsequent to the small desk that held a tumbler and ewer. the sunshine of a unmarried candle kissed her with a golden glow. yet in contrast to the time he’d stumbled upon her at Angus’s domestic, she wasn’t bathing now. She was once absolutely dressed, along with her skirt hitched as much as her hip on one aspect, her stocking sagging to her ankle. She was once untying the size of muslin binding the wound on her thigh. Her eyes flared at him, and he or she dropped her skirt to hide herself. “Ye have to switch the dressing, Elspeth. Dinna allow me cease ye. in reality, enable me support ye. ” He steeled himself to examine his handiwork. It was once his fault an another way excellent leg was once marred for all times. “I can deal with. ” “Let me. i need to be certain ’tis therapeutic cleanly. ” He sank to 1 knee beside her and uttered a observe that hardly ever handed his lips. “Please. ” She met his gaze at once for a second after which nodded. conscientiously, he drew her skirt again up. He attempted very not easy to target the wrapped part of her thigh, however it used to be most unlikely to not observe her gentle calf and the tempting crease in the back of her knee. He questioned if she was once ticklish there. She’d already all started unwrapping the wound, so he endured, attaining round among her legs to take away the muslin strip. His fingertips brushed her internal thigh, that smooth dermis so close to the tempting position among her legs. Her breath hitched on each one move. “The access wound appears to be like good,” he acknowledged as soon as he dropped the dirty textile into the ewer. there has been no trace of redness round the scab, and he may possibly scent in basic terms her hot, fit smell. Her physique used to be operating to fix the wear and tear his plan for revenge had prompted.