Rated: EROTIC ADULT
(This title contains adult content: language and explicit language)
Free lance writer,
is finished dating
executives. She’s looking for hot sexual fantasies with a man who fits her
needs... “All muscle, stamina and no commitment.” The assignment in the Ailsa
Jackson UK sounds perfect when she's assigned to
interview an American CEO who
recently inherited lands and a title in Scotland. She tosses her
inhibitions aside for the first Highlander she encounters—prepared to research
all the old myths about brawny men in kilts and finally answer the age old,
burning question: What does a Scotsman wear beneath his kilt?
Can lust turn to love in three weeks and will they be ready for more than a Hot Highland Fling when the assignment draws to an end?
“So ye don’t mind a man in a skirt, hey?”
The expression on his face turned predatory as he moved into her personal space. She felt like Little Red Riding Hood had come upon the very big, very bad
Wolf, and she so wanted him to eat her. As far as she
was concerned, he could have her all he wanted. The silence between them was
charged with sexual tension.
“You look...ah, great.”
Ailsa’s gaze took him in again. She’d have to settle for great. Any other term would just be insufficient. Yet great almost seemed an inadequate description under the circumstances. Vocalizing her true feelings—terrific, yummy, fantastic—might be a tip off about her fascination with him and his kilt. She decided to hold it there. Anything other than great would be over the top. No sense scaring the hell out of the first man she encountered in
She certainly couldn’t ask the question she longed to ask or lift his kilt and satisfy her curiosity.
He frowned and tilted his chin to one side, perhaps puzzled by her perusal.
She tried to explain. “Don’t get me wrong. I was surprised to see the native dress. You know...the kilt and all. Sorry, I’m babbling. I didn’t know kilts were daily attire.”
“Do ye have something against kilts, then?”
“Oh, no! Absolutely nothing. I actually have a certain proclivity for men in kilts.” The only thing she wanted against his kilt was her body. From the rising action going on under the sporran, she imagined he’d meet her sexual requirements, and then some. How well would he fill her? Her inner muscles clenched at the mental image.
His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared.
“Do you, now?”
Colin suppressed the smile on his lips, but it crept
into his eyes.
She played with fire, boldly flirting with him. “Yes, I do.” She lifted her chin defiantly and let her smile say...“Try me.”