Carrick Gordon gave his word and now he will marry a lass he's never met. After lying with her long enough to procure an heir he plans to release her from the marriage bed. She won't fight it, Carrick is certain one look at his marred face and she'll recoil in horror.
It had to be a cruel joke. Analise Macgregor cannot believe the handsome man is to be her husband. That he rejects her after a wonderful night is hurtful, but not surprising once she sees how Carrick keeps everyone at a distance.
Will Carrick and Analise get past preconceived notions to finally admit their mutual attraction?
The thumps of her heart echoed with each place her eyes landed. The walls were dense, the guardsman who stood atop the towers huge, and the logs set to secure the gates once closed, immense. The Gordon keep was virtually impenetrable. Not an easy target for enemies to invade or for someone to steal away from.
Movement past where the men stood talking caught her attention. A lone man descended the steps. The tartan colors he wore identified him as a Gordon. Long burnished hair fell forward concealing his features, yet his presence had an immediate effect on her. Analise followed the male's progress as he neared. Broad shouldered with an expansive well-formed chest that tapered to a trimmer waist and hips, he commanded attention. At her study of him, breathing came easier and she was able to control her troubling heart rate only to lose it again when the amber eyes lifted and locked to hers. Dark slashes for eyebrows, his mouth tight, the exquisite man studied her in return. He exuded raw power. With chiseled cheekbones and aristocratic nose he seemed more masterpiece than human. If not for the jagged scar that distorted his right cheek and full upper lip, she'd think a more flawless creature did not exist.
"Miss Macgregor." His deep voice resonated through her and he lowered his head, barely a bow. "I am Carrick Gordon. Your betrothed."
