The Highlander's Sin by Eliza Knight Page A

been a Sutherland, he’d have bedded her already. The fact remained, however, that Lady Heather was not his for the plucking, as much as he would have relished lifting her skirts to reveal the soft, wet petals of her femininity.
    And, he wasn’t a rapist. There was a big difference between him and other warriors for hire. Duncan had morals. Even if he had an empire full of sins.
    “Damn it,” he growled, shoving away from her warm and willing body.
    Heather blanched, her face going about two shades lighter than the norm. “Get away from me,” she managed to choke out.
    The woman was just as affected by their kiss as he was. Duncan whirled away from her, not caring that she might be able to pull a concealed weapon from her person and attack him with it. His cock was rock hard and tenting the front of his robes in a way he knew would draw her attention—and vexation. His sexuality was his own enemy. A man of the cloth shouldn’t feel the way he did, nor do the things he’d done.
    Duncan had to admit the truth. He might have taken vows once, but he’d long since let them go.
    Just like he needed to let go of this insane attraction he felt for his captive. His enemy’s niece—Lady Heather Sutherland.

Chapter Five

     
    “T ime for bed,” the priest said gruffly, swiping the leather thong she’d pulled from his hair off the floor. He threaded his hands through his hair, pulling it back and tying the leather in it once more.
    Heather gaped at the warrior priest, still in a state of shock at being pressed up against a wall. Her mouth tantalized with his wicked tongue. The way he’d caressed her, sliding his body over hers… She was fairly certain now that his robes were a front for his true nature—a virgin-seducing warrior.
    The few kisses she’d received in her life did not compare in the least to what had just happened between them. She could still feel his hard, hot body tucked so intimately to hers, his velvet tongue sliding roughly and then enticingly over hers. His hands gripping tight to her hips…her bottom. His scent—a masculine mix of the outdoors, horses and something spicy.
    Good God, if he’d not pushed away from her when he had, she would have willingly lifted her skirts if only to find out if every touch was as exquisite as his kiss.
    A realization that scared the wits out of her.
    “Come over here.” He walked to the far wall of the great hall , where the hearth still stood strong in the center. Broken furniture and discarded rubbish crowded the floor, and she had to pick her way carefully over it.
    The castle had obviously long since been stripped of anything that held value.
    “Sit.”
    Heather’s heart skidded at his tone. Commanding, cruel, cold. No more of the passion that had ignited between them. A clue that what had happened affected her much more than it had him. If anything, he was angry about it. Not confused like she was. Confused about why she’d liked it so much and how to make her lips stop tingling. She pursed her lips, and then pressed them hard together, attempting to force herself to stop thinking about their kiss.
    The warrior kicked away debris by the wall, clearing a space , and then pointed at the floor. Heather nodded and rushed forward, hating that she was so willing to comply with him. If he could be so cruel with a kiss, there was no telling to what extent he’d go if she riled him up enough. Her stomach growled.
    “I’m hungry,” she said quietly as she approached.
    He stiffened. “Sit.”
    Heather frowned and followed his instructions, smoothing her skirts beneath her and praying no rats decided to nibble on her fingers and toes when complete darkness came and she’d no warning of their approach.
    The man rummaged in a satchel, pulling out a few oatcakes and scraps of jerky. “Here.”
    “Thank ye.” Why she thanked him, she didn’t know. He didn’t deserve that much , especially when he was tossing scraps at her like she was a dog.
    He was rude,