Blood of the Highlands

Tackling her had been a mistake. The feel of the soft curves pushed up against him was overwhelmingly sensual and he'd been too damn long without a woman. Jesus the lass was as soft as a kitten. Mumbling a curse; he held her down and warned, "Don't move lass, I won't hurt you"

There was something dark and promising in his voice that sent a shiver down her spine. He felt oddly familiar and some of her tension eased.

"Who are you? What do you want?" she asked breathlessly, trying to force air back into her lungs.....