But that didn’t change the fact that he was taking her against her will and she would not go meekly, regardless of what she once felt. If only she could ignore the sensuous pull of his lips or the darkening of his pupils as a rough finger drew a path over her cheek.
A crack ripped across the sky and they both jolted. Pushing to standing, Morgann helped her up and grimaced as he eyed her. Aware of the mud coating her, she swiped a hand across her face as her cheeks heated. Titling her head up, she hoped the rain would at least be useful for something and would not only rinse away some of the dirt but also cool her down. The way the man made her skin blister was extremely disconcerting.
Morgann muttered a curse, drawing her attention back to him as he raked a hand through his hair and yanked some rope from the leather pouch hanging from his saddle. As he turned back to her, rope held out, Alana shrank away. “Ye cannae mean to tie me up, surely?”