Forbidden Highlander by Donna Grant Page A

was to get his attention.
    Arriving naked would do that, but she wasn’t ready to show him everything. At least not yet. She would use her body if she had to. She didn’t like that idea, but too much was at stake. First, she would try and talk to him.
    To her horror her body heated just knowing she might get to kiss Fallon.
    She walked in the moonbeams that shone through his windows. The chamber wasn’t as large as hers, but it was still nice. The burgundy velvet bed hangings were the best that coin could buy. The candles were scented, and there was plenty of wood stacked near the hearth in case he wanted a fire.
    Larena put a finger on an unopened bottle of wine. It sat in the middle of the small table, almost like a gift. Except she had the feeling Fallon had put it there himself. So, not a gift, but a punishment then?
    She thought back to dinner. He hadn’t taken any wine or mead. He had only drunk water. Odd for a man such as he.
    Her head turned to the bed. She had kept herself from looking at him, but no longer. Her feet started to move and took her to the bed. He slept with his face toward the windows, the light of the moon illuminating his chiseled features and silent strength.
    He was spectacular. He had an angular face with hollows beneath his cheekbones that made him appear hardened and menacing. His chin was square, his jawline hard and unforgiving. Just like a Highlander.
    His nose was long and straight and thin. When her gaze landed on his lips, she sighed, recalling how they’d grazed her cheek.
    His eyes, though closed now, were the most beautiful green she had ever seen. Dark brows slashed over his eyes. There was a small scar near his left eye that must have occurred before his god was unbound.
    She wanted to touch that scar and ask him how it had come about, and how he had managed not to lose his eye and sight in the process.
    The paleness of the linens was a stark contrast to his skin, bronzed from the sun. In the moonlight his hair looked almost black, though she knew it was dark brown with hints of gold running through it as though he had spent much time out of doors.
    Her gaze traveled to his bare chest that rose and fell slowly. His abdomen rippled with honed muscles and power. The same was true of his arms and shoulders, and even his hands that lay slack by his sides.
    Larena leaned in close to get a good look at the thick gold torc around his neck. Two boars’ heads with their mouths open and teeth visible stared at her.
    She straightened, unable to believe her luck in finding one of
the
MacLeods. She had kept her distance from everyone for so long, that the need to know everything about Fallon MacLeod startled her. The mistakes of her past wouldn’t let her forget, yet she couldn’t take her gaze from Fallon.
    She let her fingers comb through a lock of his dark hair. It reached past his shoulders and was thick and cool to the touch. She wanted to run her hands through it again and again. She wanted to hold him and lull him to sleep with the gentle scrape of her nails on his scalp.
    Larena pulled her hand away, afraid she would touch more of him if she didn’t. She hadn’t felt anything like this for a man before, and to be frank, it frightened her.
    Her gaze moved to his lips once again. Ah, such a beautiful mouth. Wide, firm lips that weren’t too thin or too full. Lips that were made for teasing and kissing.
    She trembled at the thought of his mouth on hers. Her hand reached up to touch the cheek where his beard had brushed against her. Even in the dim light she could see the thick whiskers growing out on his jaw. It made him look wicked and dangerous. Forbidden.
    He shifted in his sleep, his mouth parting. He looked so different as he slept. Gone were the worries that bracketed his mouth and eyes. Gone was the furrow on his forehead. He looked young and almost mischievous now.
    Larena smiled, trying to picture the lad he had been. She imagined he’d caused his mother to fret. As the