by Lisa Torquay
Moira endeavoured to condemn all that beauty for it attracted scores of women and did things to her. Butter on a hot pan the disgraceful comparison that came to mind. Since she met him four years ago, she lived with the misfortune to react to him in this way. Those years ago, they happened to be in the gathering that made his nephew the heir of the McPherson and the McKendrick.
“No one complained before,” he stated, but there was an amused look in his damned piercing eyes that told her he did not take her seriously.
So she lifted the rifle that one extra inch to show how serious she would be. Of course she need not tell him that she had no money to buy the balls required to shoot, the detail unimportant.
“I’m complaining today,” her voice hardened at his dismissal.
At that, he dismounted. Yes! Precisely what she wanted him to do.
One straight brow rose mischievous. The man held the fame of being a jester through and through. “Alright, lass, you need not use this subterfuge to get to meet me. We can arrange it any time you wish by the usual means, you know, send a note or something.” Those nefarious lips rose on one side in a grin. It made the cleft on the chin stand out. It also made her want to devour him.
His voice and his grin caused a flutter in her stomach. “Only you would think of such a self-centred motivation,” she scorned, tamping down the flutters.
Had she the time or opportunity for trysts, he would be the last man on the planet to whom she would turn. Moira harboured an utter contempt for womanisers, having seen enough for a lifetime.
His stance went deadly still, granite smothering his Apollonian features. “Now wait there for a second, Darroch,” steel entered his tone, making it lower and coarser. Lachlan also held the fame for being rather hot-headed and he did not look pleased at that precise moment.
Never would she back down, however.
The strip of strong legs she saw between the tartan and the hoses paced forward despite the gun pointed at him. Would those legs feel rough if touched? The random thought infuriated her.
He moved once more onto a patch of dry leaves—that he did not fear the threat of a gun amazed her. And triggered the trap. A net made from the sturdy wool from the estate’s sheep enveloped him, suspending his tall frame up to a tree’s thick branch.
“What the hell are you up to, Darroch?” downright anger shot from him in droves, also through his harsh intonation.
Moira’s hazel eyes lifted to the trees’ canopies, surprised with her success. The tightly knit net she had made specially for this held steady.
Laird Lachlan McKendrick dangled right in the air.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lisa Torquay comes from a multi-cultural family. She graduated in History and got a Master degree in British Empire. She has worked as an English and History teacher at high schools. She got married to a Norwegian and moved to Norway, where she has lived for three years. Writing has been her passion since she was thirteen.
Connect with Lisa Torquay
www.lisatorquay.webs.com
Facebook/Lisa Torquay
Other Books by Lisa Torquay
Build It Higher (Contemporary Romance)
Her Irresistible Guardian (Contemporary Romance)
For the Earl’s Taking
The Lady and the Desert Scoundrel
The Forbidden Duchess (Rogues from War 1)
Claiming His Estranged Viscountess (Rogues from War 2)
Igniting the Countess
Duke of Treason (Rogues from War 3)
The Lass Defied the Laird (Explosive Highlanders 1) Taran and Aileen’s story
The Lass Defended the Laird (Explosive Highlanders 2)
The Lass Beguiled the Laird (Explosive Highlanders 3)
The Lass Initiated the Laird - Erotic Novella (Explosive Highlanders 3.5)
Coming soon!
The Lass Abducted the Laird (Explosive Highlanders 4)
