Laird Connor MacKay suffers no fools. A warrior with a bitter past, he keeps his enemies, and demons, at bay. Joanne's mysterious arrival-and her outspoken manner-
will test and anguish Connor in ways he never dreamed.
Lives will be changed forever when violence and betrayal threaten their love and the peaceful clan existence.
Love is the only thing worth fighting for-but will it be enough to hold Joanne in the past?
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|Publisher:||The Wild Rose Press|
|Product dimensions:||5.00(w) x 8.00(h) x 0.67(d)|
Read an Excerpt
"It's all right, lass. I've got ye. Stop thrashin' aboot. Yer safe now."
Comprehending what held her, she fought violently to extract herself.
"Let me go you stupid idiot," she screamed at her assailant whilst trying to get back her breath. "Let me go or I'll break your damn nose." Without even giving said idiot any chance to react or respond, she freed one of her arms, wrenched back her shoulder and elbow, and thrust forward with the heel of her hand straight up and into Connor's nose.
The sound of crunching gristle followed by a howl of stunned pain, caused the vice-like grip around her waist to loosen, giving her a chance to use her legs to push off his and glide backwards though the water. She felt better for putting distance between them, and creating space enough for her to better defend herself. Standing in a right-leg-back Tae Kwan Do stance with her hands raised in front ready to defend, she assessed her assailant with a wary eye, whilst the initial panic receded.
A man, no, a huge man, stood in front of her with his hand over his nose, and blood running down his chest into the water. It gave her a perverse sense of satisfaction. Euphoric over this victory, she lifted her eyes to his, and felt as though the breath was knocked out of her. Dark, piercing eyes bored into her. His face was without expression, but it needed none. His eyes told the story. He was furious.
Determined not to give any advantage by showing fear, she decided anger was a better weapon. Holding her fighting stance she made the first move. "Who the hell do you think you are? And what do you think you're doing attacking me in my bath?"
Connor's anger dissipated a little. He'dmany adversaries in his life and knew the look of fear, no matter how hard a person tried to conceal it. His nose throbbed, but he could not help admire the lass who stood there so brave, thinking one lucky shot would be sufficient against his superior size and strength. And the view was quite tantalising.
She stood in naked glory; the water reached her ribcage, offering him every opportunity to ogle at his leisure. The soft curve of her waist and the rounded swell of her ample breast were of particular interest. As were the soft pink nipples, raised from the warm waters, hardened delightfully.
She was beautiful. He'd an urge to run his hand along her cheek.
It annoyed him that with all the luscious flesh presented, it was her face that would draw his caress. His broken nose must have addled his brain. Splashing water over his face to wash away the blood but never taking his eyes off her, Connor took a step forward, hands at his side, relaxed but ready.
She threatened him again, "Don't come any closer, or I'll, I'll..."
"Do what? Break ma other nose?"
"No, but I'll rearrange your balls."
Understanding her meaning of 'balls,' Connor found it difficult not to smile. This woman was as crazy as a wild boar. She was cornered, irrational, and making rash judgements that would lead to her ultimate defeat. Connor began to enjoy himself, curious to see where it would lead.