From the back cover.
When Roarke Gilchrist first found a coarsely clad beauty nearly buried in new-fallen snow, he took desperate measures to revive her. He warmed her with his naked body and thoroughly massaged every inch of her flawless skin. Convinced she was a slave, the lusty laird plundered her charms and took his pleasure. But when he discovered this was no lowly chattel, Roarke felt misled and suspected this ebony-haired wench was sent to be his assassin. Whatever her mission, the virile male planned to take advantage of each heated moment the mysterious goddess was in his embrace-in his chambers, if she was innocent and in his dungeon, if she was a spy.
When high-born Catriona felt the first touch of warmth after having been cold so long, the grateful girl clung to the towering strength of the man whod saved her life. But as she succumbed to a tidal wave of ecstasy, she was horrified: perhaps this handsome stranger was her would-be killer whod left her to die in the blizzard! Each waking moment Catriona plotted her escape. Then Roarke would sensually caress each of her silken limbs and his tongue would trace each of her smooth curves. And even as her mind fought his masterful invasion, her unsatisfied body made her a willing victim of Roarkes exciting touch and an eager prisoner of his bold breathless nights.
When Roarke Gilchrist first found a coarsely clad beauty nearly buried in new-fallen snow, he took desperate measures to revive her. He warmed her with his naked body and thoroughly massaged every inch of her flawless skin. Convinced she was a slave, the lusty laird plundered her charms and took his pleasure. But when he discovered this was no lowly chattel, Roarke felt misled and suspected this ebony-haired wench was sent to be his assassin. Whatever her mission, the virile male planned to take advantage of each heated moment the mysterious goddess was in his embrace-in his chambers, if she was innocent and in his dungeon, if she was a spy.
When high-born Catriona felt the first touch of warmth after having been cold so long, the grateful girl clung to the towering strength of the man whod saved her life. But as she succumbed to a tidal wave of ecstasy, she was horrified: perhaps this handsome stranger was her would-be killer whod left her to die in the blizzard! Each waking moment Catriona plotted her escape. Then Roarke would sensually caress each of her silken limbs and his tongue would trace each of her smooth curves. And even as her mind fought his masterful invasion, her unsatisfied body made her a willing victim of Roarkes exciting touch and an eager prisoner of his bold breathless nights.
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