I canna let you die like Da,” he said softly. “And yet ye canna let me live,” she replied.

Her fingers clutched him now, and her body writhed with a frustration he knew all too well. He wanted her. Now. Here.

He didn’t save women. He damned them.

Her breathing came faster, evidenced by the repeated rapid swell of her breasts against the low-cut bodice. Before he could let his thoughts circle around once more, he cupped the elegant line of her jaw in his palm. Her eyes widened. “Are you going to kiss me?” she whispered. Instead of answering, he lowered his mouth to the luscious warmth of hers.