Enraptured Read Online Free Page A

Munro.”
    The young man beat a hasty retreat. Mrs. Ferguson regarded Violet stonily. Violet, affecting an air of unconcern, sat down on the hall bench. Minutes dragged by. There was no sound but that of a large clock striking the hour. Finally, she heard a door closing somewhere in the back recesses of the house, and heavy footsteps came toward them.
    Violet turned toward the sound and saw a tall blond man stride into the room. Her stomach sank.
    He came to an abrupt halt, his brows drawing together thunderously. “You!”

2
    C oll stared at the woman by the front door. He had thought the night could not get any worse, but clearly it had.
    He had set out this evening just to have a wee dram at the tavern, but before he reached the village, a lad came running to tell him what that idiot Will Ross was up to. Coll had had to clean up the messy situation first—and that strange, infuriating woman had berated him for rescuing her! Then he had acted completely unlike himself, grabbing her and kissing her even though it was abundantly clear that she wanted nothing to do with him.
    It wasn’t like him. Lord knows she was a tempting, shapely morsel of a woman, and Coll enjoyed the touch of a woman’s lips as well as any man. But he did not grab a woman and kiss her without even a by-your-leave, especially not a lady he’d never before met—and if he had been in the habit of doing so, his sister would long ago have had his head for it.
    But somehow, standing there looking at the bad-tempered, sweet-featured Englishwoman, he was unable to resist. He’d meant only a teasing peck, a joking challenge. Then he tasted her—sweet and tart mingled in a velvety, alluring softness. And he had had to know her mouth—to inveigle and entice and explore. She responded, initial surprise giving way to her own tentative exploration, and that sent desire humming through him.
    Until she pulled away and took off like the hounds of hell were after her. Clearly one of them was insane, but Coll was not sure which. Maybe both.
    When he had finally trudged back to the tavern, it was impossible to have a drink in peace, what with everyone wanting to know what Will Ross had done, and Cuddy Hamilton pointing out that it would never have happened if only Coll had stayed with the lads, and Dot’s father hinting that Coll had not come to visit in an age. Coll was usually patient, but he didn’t have it in him to deal with them all tonight. So finally, when Kenneth MacLeod started whining about the sorry state of his finances (which everyone knew would not be so dire if only he didn’t spend every evening drinking at the tavern), Coll gave up and left.
    He returned to his cottage inside the gates of Duncally, knowing he would doubtless sink into a solitary brood about that woman—and strangely looking forward to it. But even that dubious pleasure was denied him when he found Jamie lurking on his doorstep, summoning him to solve yet another problem.
    The problem, of course, turned out to be the dainty beauty now perched on the stone bench across from him. Her back was perfectly straight, hands crossed in her lap,a cloak folded neatly on the seat beside her, and a black bonnet atop it. Everything about her was trim and plain, from the top of her thick, chocolate-colored hair, braided and wrapped into a serviceable bun, to the toes of her black, leather half boots. Paradoxically, the severity of hairstyle and dress only made the alluring femininity of her face and figure more obvious. Her dark doe eyes were the sort that could melt a man right down to his soul—if they had not been fixed on him in a furious glare.
    â€œYou.” Coll was pleased that his voice held only irritation and none of the irrational fizzing pleasure that blossomed in his chest. “I should have known.”
    She rose to face him. It did not surprise him that she offered no greeting or explanation or acknowledgment of his prior