Читать книгу Falling for the Highland Rogue - Ann Lethbridge - Страница 2

He had neither wealth nor style. The only attributes she looked for in a man. The first thought in her mind had been charming rogue. The worst kind of man for a woman like her.

Was it the sheer male beauty of him, then, that had held her attention a fraction too long? The long, lean frame, the shoulders wide but not brutally so, the narrow waist tapering to hard, firm flanks in tight buckskins that had seen better days? While his form was lovely, she’d seen others equally fine.

She closed her eyes briefly to break the spell that seemed to see all the way through her with a blinding purity.

Unsettling thought. Horrifying when she inspected her own darkly stained soul. A dark, twisted creature from a gothic novel, drawn to his light like the proverbial moth to a flame and the inevitable burning of wings.

One more such singeing and she’d float away as ashes.