One by one, he'd terrified those women who would be his assistant. Like some dark laird of the manor, Sir Ian MacGowan seemed more beast than man, scowl and scars included. But Jenna Craddock knew her boss was pure male. It was in the way he looked at her, virility sensing virginity, and in the way he underestimated the fairer sex.
Ian demanded professionalism; Jenna gave him perfection. He harbored secrets; Jenna insisted bed be the place where nothing came between them. In Ian's fortress, Jenna could almost forget the family betrayal that had led her to Scotland, except that she needed to know who she was as urgently as she needed to know the truth about Ian.
