And Excerpt From the Laird who loved me

No ideas came. In an effort not to look in to MacLean's eyes, she looked everywhere else and was captured by the powerful muscles under his coat. The way his forearms strained against the sleeves as if fighting the confining fabric.

She shivered and hazarded a glance up at him and could not move, could not breathe, as his gaze slowly traveled over her face, lingering on her lips and chin, the moved lower to her throat, and the neckline of her gown.

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Ja!