"I trust her about as much as I do the rest of the MacRaes. Nary a bit." Gavin picked up the massive sword and handed it to Ewan. "Put this back in the armory. Lock it up, and haste you back."
"Aye." Ewan scurried out the door with the weapon.
Gavin's penetrating gaze zeroed in on her. "Danielle, is it?"
Wow! His accent did crazy things to her name, made it sound more exciting than it had a right to.
"Everyone calls me Dani."
"Well now, Dani, were you sent to kill me or wed me? Or were you just wantin' to bed me?"
She sucked in a deep breath to calm her sprinting heart rate. "Not bed," she blurted.At least not now.
"Nay indeed. You would nay enjoy turning to stone."
Huh?
"Keep your hands where I can see them." He placed the dagger beside the candle on the table and moved forward.
Though danger emanated from him like the clean male scent of his skin, she didn't fear him. She almost felt she knew him. But in reality, she barely knew his name.
He touched her shoulder, a strange power emanating from him. Her whole body tingled and heated while his gaze trailed over her face, examining it.
His expression eased, and his brows lifted. "I must search you for weapons."
"I don't have any," she said, breathless as a ninny.
"I'm nay certain I believe you." He placed both hands on her shoulders, her blouse scarcely shielding her from his heat. He ran gentle hands down her arms, along her body, around her waist, and up between her breasts.
His touch was familiar, entrancing. Her body recognized him. Wanted him. A storm tide of tingling sensation followed in the wake of his touch. Too intense, too real. This was no fantasy, and that scared the crap out of her.
"Stop it!" She shoved his hands away.
His eyes glinted. "Many a man has been sent to the hereafter with asgian dubhthat was hidden in a woman's bodice."
"They probably deserved it!"
Dani grappled for control, but with Gavin's superior strength, he won. Towering over her, he gripped both her wrists in one large hand and held them above her head.
I don't fear him. I don't. He's the one I dreamed of.
Why did her body tremble? Because of his forceful, too-intimate touch, or because she craved his hands on her? She feared she would give over control to him too easily. He coursed through her veins like a drug.
"Don't!" She glared up at his face, darkened by shadows.
"I'm nay hurting you, lass," he murmured, then stroked his fingers down over her collar bones toward her cleavage.
His fingertips rasped over the sensitive skin of her breasts—far too stimulating.
This can't be happening!She hung suspended between fantasy and a reality morerealthan anything she had ever experienced.
She felt as though she'd been reunited with a long-lost lover, her body simmering with rising desire.
Next, he caressed her waist around the top of her skirt. "Hmm, you're nay wearing a corset."
"So?" She yanked, trying to free her hands, but his grip proved unbreakable. How could one hand be so strong?
Next, his palm skated over the outside of her hips, sending a blaze of heat through her.
