Аннотация
KISSED BY A McTIERNAY
A few dozen times? A surge of jealousy shot through him at the image of her kissing a long line of men. If he thought about it rationally, at the age of twenty and two it would have been more surprising if Mairead had not been kissed a few times. She was beautiful and probably highly sought by many as a potential wife. But Hamish was incapable of rational thought with her so close. The heat of her hand was making his blood boil and her fresh scent was causing his body to make demands of its own. All he could think was that he needed to erase the memory of every man’s touch but his own.
Powerless to stop himself, Hamish could not pull his gaze away from her lips as he slowly, inevitably, lowered his mouth to hers. His arms gathered her close in case she suddenly realized what was about to happen, because Mairead was not going anywhere. She wanted to know if the passion of their kiss had been a fluke and he was not going to keep her wondering any longer. . . .
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