Brianna MacLeod has accompanied a shipload of her guardian’s friends to a remote island off the coast of Scotland. She eludes these Highland hunters to keep her innocence…and her gift of sight. Her attitude against falling for womanly desires changes when she nearly drowns. Saved by the talons of a terrifying winged beast, she awakens—naked—in a cave, beside an unusual man.

Cursed by a vengeful witch to transform into a dragon at inopportune times, Draco MacDonald hides on this deserted island to live alone: until he plucks a servant girl from certain death. Fueled by jealousy, and tempered by fear for her safety, he succumbs to an unfamiliar desire to mate. Her kisses propel him to dare to make her his own.

Set in 1592 on the Scottish island of Staffa, the cursed hero battles a ghostly witch, a hunter set on rape, and his own growing desire for a young woman with premonitions of his death.

Draco’s hungry mouth brushed her lips as his arms pulled her body close to his heart and settled her in his lap. His hard chest met soft breasts and his free hand flew upward. Slipping his fingers inside her low-cut bodice, he squeezed. Sensations flooded him as he drank her in and caressed her silky skin.

She moaned.

He tasted her. Sweet apple cider and honey. Her flavor nourished him unlike his forgotten dinner or his half-drunk ale. He sucked her tongue into his mouth. She whimpered with the feminine angst of a long-denied innocent. A tiny pang of regret forced his fingers to loosen their grip on her breast. She moaned louder at their sudden removal, and the vibration against his tongue caused Draco’s cock to quiver. As if rising after a long night’s slumber, his body awakened. He reapplied his tender attention to a hardened nipple, ignoring the pleasure radiating through the calloused skin of his thumb.

She smelled fresh as rainwater trickling from a moss-covered roof. As he took their kiss deeper, he tasted the salt of the sea he had grown to love.

Nay, I love nothing on this earth.

She curled into him as heat pulsed off her skin. A growl erupted from his throat and she mewed in response. Cinders crackled in the fire pit. The scent of ash mingled with her feminine perfume and surrounded him like a shroud.

She had accepted his hospitality. She ate his food and sipped his cider. Would she respond by accepting further intrusion into her waylaid life?

Earlier, he hoped he smelled no worse than the fresh moss and heather he had gathered for her bed. Once she lay safe inside his cave unconscious, and nearly naked, he had flown to the western edge of the island for the bedding. Taking flight, his dragon form soared with wings spread wide beneath a storm-filled sky. He kept low, gliding effortlessly below the cliff tops. Did I keep out of sight of the hunters?

His secret life depended on such a success.

He pressed his mouth in earnest against her petal-soft lips, not caring if he left her bruised and breathless. She moaned with a quiet, rapturous whimper. Her innocent response ignited his pleasure, sweeping over him like wildfire. When her delicately boned hands slid upward and tangled in his hair, heat sizzled along the nape of his neck. He basked in the simple delight as she caressed his sensitized skin and combed sand and twigs from his rough-shorn locks. His once-lifeless cock hardened.