at all but just a figment of his dreams.
"What are ye doing here?" Her voice had a sharp edge to it as she asked the question. As he took another step forward, she took one step back, her hands stretched out as if to push him away were he to come too close.
"I'm no ogre, lass, though I think ye must be a kelpie, a lovely water sprit e sent to tempt me. Are you?"
"No." She was trapped. There was nowhere to go except to hurl herse lf in the depths of the water.
He moved with all the caution of a predatory animal, slow and sinuous in his grace, coming at last to the waters edge. Poised just a few feet from where she stood he gave his eyes full reign. She was even lovelier up close than she had been from afar. Ian felt his heartbeat quickening as she met him eye to eye. "Why, they're br own. A bonnie, bonnie brown."
"What...?"
"Your eyes." Not blue or green, nor even gray. They were the loveliest shade he'd ever seen, a copper-colored hue, fringed by dark brown lashes. Her face was now clearly revealed to him, the sunlight caressing her forehead and cheeks where he would have liked to place his hand.
There was an ethereal beauty about her, yet he knew her to be real. His gaze touched upon her well-formed nose, a nose with just a slight tilt at the end that gave her a haughty air. There was something enticing about her wide, sensuous mouth. Her cheekbones were high and prominent , adding to her beauty. A necklace strung with small seashells emphasized the slimness of her neck.
Wordlessly Brianna regarded this man, this stranger, just as he was scrutinizing her. She knew immediately that she had never seen him before on her travels with her father, for she would have remembered a man like this if she had. This tall, muscular, handsome man was not the kind a woman would ever forget. He had a bold look about him, an impression heightened by the curve of his brows. Brows that shadowed piercing blue eyes. Ah, those eyes haunted her. They were as unfathomable as the sea. He was not of the MacQuarie clan to be sure. Which clan then? He wore the strange hose-like trews, a combination of breeches and stockings that none of her clansman would wear. His dress, the way he talked all puzzled her. Who was he then? He had come from the direction of the coast which led her to believe he might well be one of the MacLeans. Was he one of them? She soothed herself in judging it must be so. Just as well. Her clan had no quarrel with them.
Forgotten for the moment was he contemplative mood, her sadness. The air crackled with anticipation. A shiver danced up and down her spine, though she refused to let this man know the effect his presence had on her. She told herself that it was the sense of surprise and danger that so activated her senses. She asked again, "who are ye?" He remained silent, which was puzzling.
The blue black of his hair glistened in the sunlight. For one timeless moment they stared at each other across the short distance that separated them. Strange how just a look could be so exciting.
"You charm me, lass." He had a roguish grin, his teeth straight and even. "By Saint Michael you do!" His eyes caressed her with a boldness few had dared, held her, forced her to acknowledge that something was going on between them. An indefinable fascination.
At last Brianna had to admit to herself that she was attracted to him. She held her breath in expectation as he reached out. Without a word he caught a fistful of her long silken hair and wrapped it around his hand, drawing her closer. With the tips of his fingers he traced the line of he r cheekbones, the shape of her mouth, the line of her brows. He seemed motivated by curiosity, as if to prove beyond a doubt that she was not a dream.
"I like you well. You have lips I long to kiss, curves that beckon my hands....." His face hovered only inches from her own.
"Nae
"What are ye doing here?" Her voice had a sharp edge to it as she asked the question. As he took another step forward, she took one step back, her hands stretched out as if to push him away were he to come too close.
"I'm no ogre, lass, though I think ye must be a kelpie, a lovely water sprit e sent to tempt me. Are you?"
"No." She was trapped. There was nowhere to go except to hurl herse lf in the depths of the water.
He moved with all the caution of a predatory animal, slow and sinuous in his grace, coming at last to the waters edge. Poised just a few feet from where she stood he gave his eyes full reign. She was even lovelier up close than she had been from afar. Ian felt his heartbeat quickening as she met him eye to eye. "Why, they're br own. A bonnie, bonnie brown."
"What...?"
"Your eyes." Not blue or green, nor even gray. They were the loveliest shade he'd ever seen, a copper-colored hue, fringed by dark brown lashes. Her face was now clearly revealed to him, the sunlight caressing her forehead and cheeks where he would have liked to place his hand.
There was an ethereal beauty about her, yet he knew her to be real. His gaze touched upon her well-formed nose, a nose with just a slight tilt at the end that gave her a haughty air. There was something enticing about her wide, sensuous mouth. Her cheekbones were high and prominent , adding to her beauty. A necklace strung with small seashells emphasized the slimness of her neck.
Wordlessly Brianna regarded this man, this stranger, just as he was scrutinizing her. She knew immediately that she had never seen him before on her travels with her father, for she would have remembered a man like this if she had. This tall, muscular, handsome man was not the kind a woman would ever forget. He had a bold look about him, an impression heightened by the curve of his brows. Brows that shadowed piercing blue eyes. Ah, those eyes haunted her. They were as unfathomable as the sea. He was not of the MacQuarie clan to be sure. Which clan then? He wore the strange hose-like trews, a combination of breeches and stockings that none of her clansman would wear. His dress, the way he talked all puzzled her. Who was he then? He had come from the direction of the coast which led her to believe he might well be one of the MacLeans. Was he one of them? She soothed herself in judging it must be so. Just as well. Her clan had no quarrel with them.
Forgotten for the moment was he contemplative mood, her sadness. The air crackled with anticipation. A shiver danced up and down her spine, though she refused to let this man know the effect his presence had on her. She told herself that it was the sense of surprise and danger that so activated her senses. She asked again, "who are ye?" He remained silent, which was puzzling.
The blue black of his hair glistened in the sunlight. For one timeless moment they stared at each other across the short distance that separated them. Strange how just a look could be so exciting.
"You charm me, lass." He had a roguish grin, his teeth straight and even. "By Saint Michael you do!" His eyes caressed her with a boldness few had dared, held her, forced her to acknowledge that something was going on between them. An indefinable fascination.
At last Brianna had to admit to herself that she was attracted to him. She held her breath in expectation as he reached out. Without a word he caught a fistful of her long silken hair and wrapped it around his hand, drawing her closer. With the tips of his fingers he traced the line of he r cheekbones, the shape of her mouth, the line of her brows. He seemed motivated by curiosity, as if to prove beyond a doubt that she was not a dream.
"I like you well. You have lips I long to kiss, curves that beckon my hands....." His face hovered only inches from her own.
"Nae
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