Ms. Quinn takes us back to the Highlands and the lives of the MacGregors with their children all grown and ready for their own stories. Caitrina Grant has grown up in the bosom of her family with an education in both book learning and warfare or at least she definitely knows how to protect herself and more. Yet her adventurous spirit chafes at the restriction of being boxed in on the island and her parents’ conventional desire for her to marry and settle down. When swashbuckling pirate Alexander Kidd visits her family home in search of a treasure map, she seizes the opportunity with both hands and sets sail on his ship in search of the adventure her soul craves. Perhaps she might have bitten off more than she can chew as the following excerpt might suggest.
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He moved up against her again, sending hot fissures down her spine, and curled his arm around her waist. His grip was filled with strength and tension, yet gentle when he pulled her closer. “Miss Grant,” he scorched across her lips, hypnotizing her, paralyzing her. “I’ve had the Royal Navy on me arse. I don’t care about yar kin comin’ after me. Still, I’d prefer not to battle me father’s friend.”
In an instant the gravity of what she had done became clear. Her kin would indeed come after her and he wasn’t afraid. He was obviously mad, not in his right state of mind. Nevertheless, her kin could die in a battle on the sea. “Then…” She arched her back to get away from him. He moved in over her. What would a madman do with her? With Kyle? She needed to know. “…what d’ye plan on doing with me?”
He gave her no time to think, to catch her breath, to pull away…if she had a mind and the strength to do.
Caitrina had been kissed a few years back by young John MacKinnon. But she knew, as the captain’s beguiling mouth dipped down to hers, that this kiss was going to be very very different.
And hell, she was correct.
There was nothing gentle or curious about it. His mouth covered hers with dominance and scalding heat while he dragged her in against the rigid, flat lines of his body. His tongue teased against her lips, licking, tasting her, tempting her to join in his sweet madness. Like that flame, he swept over her, consuming her muscles, scorching her nerve endings. He kissed her until she began to believe he had every right to do so—until her knees went weak and a slight, pitiful gasp escaped her lips.
He finally broke away with a slow, seductive smile she wanted to gaze at for years to come.
She slapped him hard across his face, lest he think to take further liberties in the future—since she hadn’t stopped him the first time.
For a moment, something dark and fully seductive moved across his features. She thought, trying to slow her heartbeat, that he might either strangle her or rip the gown from her body and have his way with her.
“Fergive me,” he said roughly and without a trace of remorse. “I misjudged. I don’t bed children.”
Her mouth fell open and her eyes narrowed into slits. Here she thought he was being gallant, when he was simply being insulting. Children! How dare he imply that she wasn’t yet a woman! “I should slap ye again fer yer insult,” she seethed.
“Do it,” he provoked her with a sinful, sinuous smile, “and the beast that I am at this moment keepin’ at bay, will more than likely haul ya up against that wall and take ya, despite yar protests.”
She felt the color drain from her face. She couldn’t breathe, or think, or speak, blushing and stammering about for something to say. The images he conjured for her frightened and thrilled her out of her skin at the same time. She didn’t like being threatened but she wasn’t a fool to test him.
