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Awareness hit Moira like a slap in the face; she was here in this lonely place, letting this man to whom she was so desperately attracted kiss her. She was suddenly terrified of the thought that she might lose control of herself and allow him to do the kind of things that her body was begging her to let him do.

Why was she so attracted to him? Why was every feminine part of her body responding to him so fiercely?

Moira’s instincts caused her to panic and push him away by putting both hands flat on his chest and shoving with all her strength. She could not give in to him now; she was too confused. Her mind told her to do one thing, but her body told her to do something else, and she knew that if she gave in to her emotions she would live to regret it.

Even though Moira had pushed him as hard as she could, she did not succeed in unbalancing him. He merely took two steps backwards, not even stumbling despite her best effort.

He frowned at her, but it was not an aggressive expression, merely one of puzzlement. “Moira, take a breath,” he said gently, smiling. “I am not going to hurt you. I simply cannot stay away from you.”

He took a step towards her, but Moira held up her hands, palms towards him, in a gesture of repudiation.

“Get away from me,” she said through gritted teeth.

Even as she did so, she felt ashamed of her body’s instinctive response to him. She should not be feeling this way, she reminded herself. Men were brutal, and she had no wish to be under the thumb of yet another one of them, completely subject to his will. That would never happen again, despite the urges of her body. They were only physical, and could be overcome, but she could never force herself to fall in love with this man.

“Why?” he asked. “Do you find me repulsive?” He looked down at himself, then back up at her, and once more she was mesmerised by his built—but only for a moment.

Moira was not going to answer the question because she could not tell him the truth; that she found him deeply attractive, but she was afraid.

“I am not falling into your trap,” she snapped.

Niall let out a peal of incredulous laughter. “What trap?” he asked. He was genuinely baffled by this woman, who reacted with hostility to his attempts at pleasantness and courtesy. If only he did not find her so damned beautiful!

“You want to seduce me,” Moira replied, trembling as she backed even further away from him. “And make me your mistress! Well, let me tell you, you will not succeed! I will not be used whenever you feel the urge. I will never consent to that!”

Niall could not believe what he was hearing. “Why do you think so little of yourself?” he asked. “And of me? Why would I ask you to be my mistress when I could ask you to be my bride?”

Moira was speechless and motionless with disbelief for a moment. Was this a proposal? Surely not, he was making fun of her, but she was having none of it. She looked into Niall’s eyes with utter contempt and shook her head.

“I am not the kind of woman for you, My Laird. You need someone with status, to bring you land and help you with alliances. I am a nobody. A runaway. The best thing I can do for you is to leave here and never bother you again.”

She tried to turn away, but Niall reached out to grab her wrist and pull her close to him, so close that they were touching from chest to knee.

Niall could feel Moira’s soft breasts pressing against his chest, her warm body heating him so that he was almost afire with desire for her. She smelled of lavender and woman. At that moment, if he had been a man of no honour or decency, he would have pushed her onto the ground and had his way with her, but he was not that kind of man, thank god.

As he looked into her pale blue eyes, Niall felt as if all his senses were trained on Moira, and the only people who lived in the world at that moment were he and the lovely creature he was holding in his arms. He had shut the rest of the world out as if it did not exist. He could have stayed there forever.

Moira was dizzy from Niall’s closeness, the musk of his body, the firmness of his chest and his thighs pressed against her. How could she want him so much yet need to push him away at the same time? It made no sense, yet when Moira was near Niall, nothing made sense; he threw her completely off kilter.

“I have enough land,” Niall said. His voice, that deep rumble from inside his chest, made her feel as though she could stand and listen to him all day. “You are better than any amount of land, Moira. But I want to taste you first…”

Before she knew it, his lips were on hers, and Moira was lost in a world the likes of which she had never known existed. She had been kissed before by her husband, and that was an experience she wished to forget forever.

But this was as different as night was from day as Niall’s moist lips caressed hers gently, sensually, and his tongue tip parted her lips to enter her mouth and stroke her tongue with his. She gave a little moan of surprise and delight; nothing had prepared her for this. But Moira was inexorably drawn into the kiss as if she had no will of her own, and at that moment she had none.

She was lost in a world of sensation she could never have imagined, and the pleasure was almost unbearably sweet. She plunged her fingers into the thick hair at the nape of his neck and sighed at its smooth, silky feel. She had expected to feel trapped in his arms, but instead she felt safe and protected.

Niall, too, was in a wonderland he had never been in before. He had kissed and lain with a lot of different women many times before. He knew he was a handsome man, although he never spoke about it, but he knew he should not be kissing Moira. She could be extremely insulting sometimes, and she had a will of iron, and yet, there was something about her that drew him in and would not let him go. He was baffled by her, but so enchanted that he thought she might have cast a spell on him.

Now she was in his arms, at his mercy, her soft, yielding body pressed against his with the inevitable result. And had he just asked her to marry him? He had been joking, of course—or had he? Now her lips were moving against his, as soft and delicate as rose petals. Was there anything about her that was not utterly delicious?

Moira felt herself sinking into a pool of lustful delight. The movements of Niall’s lips were sending jets of pleasure straight to her core, and she was almost unconsciously rubbing her hips against his. The pulse between her legs had become stronger, and she felt warm and wet and wicked, but she was in paradise.

Then, abruptly, reality forced its way back into her consciousness. She could not allow Niall McPhee to have his way with her. Moira once more pushed Niall away, but this time she accompanied the shove with a resounding slap across his face which made her palm sting.

She saw Niall put his hand to his face and watched his eyes widen, and his mouth drop open in surprise, but he was rooted to the spot with sheer astonishment. Moira took the chance to run to her horse and mount unaided faster than she had ever done before.

Less than a minute later, she was gone, while Niall had barely moved except to rub the livid, hand-shaped mark on his cheek which was throbbing and stinging furiously.

What did I do to deserve that? Niall thought, feeling a boiling rage growing inside him. He was tired of Moira Jamieson treating him like something filthy she had scraped off her shoe. He determined that when he reached the castle, he would seek her out and have a final showdown with her.

The kind of violence and disrespect she had just shown were unacceptable, and he would tell her so in no uncertain terms! And after that, she would likely disappear.

It cannot happen soon enough, he thought. I am sick of her.

However, as he mounted Logie and started back to the castle, he knew he was lying to himself. Moira was in his blood; if she wanted to leave, he could not stop her, but he could not bring himself to look forward to the prospect. He knew he would miss her desperately.

Suddenly, he remembered something—something extremely important that had almost slipped his mind because he had been so preoccupied with Moira. There was a council meeting that afternoon, and it was imperative that he was there.

Niall cursed and wanted to spend the entire journey back to the castle calling Moira all sorts of foul names, all the while knowing that he did not mean any of them.

She brought out the worst in him, Niall thought savagely, then his mind went back to their kiss; how could he possibly be angry with her when she made him feel so good, so protective, so masculine?

When Moira arrived back at Baltyre Castle, she sprinted all the way from the stables to her bedchamber without stopping, then threw herself on her bed. Her head was spinning, and her whole body still thrilled with Niall’s touch. She could still feel his lips on hers, his big hands around her waist, and most of all, the touch of his hard erection against the most sensitive spot on her body.

She could still feel his silky hair running through her fingers, her breasts pressing against the hard muscles of his chest, the tingling of her hardened nipples.

For a brief moment, Moira cast her mind back to her wedding night. It had been unbearably painful, but had not lasted long, thank god. Yet, she still had nightmares about the agony she had suffered, but it was the leer on his face as he took her without mercy that upset her most.

It had been the worst experience of her life, but he had fallen asleep straight afterwards, and that was the moment that Moira had decided to escape by hook or by crook. Her nightmares had lessened in frequency somewhat as time went on, although sometimes it took her a moment to recall where she was when she woke up in the morning, and when she did, she was swamped with blessed relief.

Then she felt again the touch of Niall’s lips on her own, and her whole body began to thrum and throb with desire. She was not a virgin, but she knew that making love with Niall would be vastly different.

Through her clothes, she touched the part of herself that had rubbed against Naill’s hard arousal, and was surprised to find it as tender and sensitive as it had been before. Tentatively, she raised her skirts.

As she thought about him, still touching herself, she remembered the kiss, and suddenly a glorious feeling she had never experienced before exploded from that sensitive place to spread over her body. She shuddered with shock and delight, and although she had never felt it before, she knew that the blissful sensation came from her thoughts of Niall.

Moira imagined waking up to him every morning, looking into his green eyes as she took her first breath of the new day, smelling the musk of his manly body, rubbing her palms over the rasping bristles of his beard’s new growth.

Niall had done some magic on her to make her long for him so much, she thought, laughing softly. Yet, she could not stay here forever; sooner or later, McDonnell would find her. But until that time, could she throw caution to the wind and let Niall make love to her?

How she desired him! But if she gave herself to him, he might think that he had won his prize and lose interest, or treat her the way Roy McDonnell had, and Moira could not bear the thought of that.