In Savage Splendor [antikvár]

He had the soul of a poet, the heart of a rogueand the passion of a man who would loveIn Savage SplendorHis expression turned pensive, as though he were studying her to store her image in his memory. His eyes dropped to her breast, held for a moment, then lifted again to her face."Oh, you lovely thing," he murmured. "How you would look in nature's garb lying in some grassy glade hard by Shannon's stream!""Who are you?" Charity demanded.He ended his reverie and swept a graceful bow. "Sean McDougal, at your service, lass.""What do you want?""So little. So very little. Only a kiss, a souvenir to take away with me."jrVith that he reached boldly forth and took Charity into his arms. Her bemusement lasted until his lips touched hers. Then her basic instincts, held in check till now, burst forth. She drew her mouth downward until it was against his throat. She bit viciously, even as she put her arms around his shoulders."Why you savage little vixen!" he snarled. "All right; now you owe me more."But immediately the flash of anger changed to a look of excitement. His voice dropped to a musical purr. "A kiss is but a fading blossom to die in the press of a memory book. But a souvenir to rememberto stay forever green "Even as he spoke he was forcing her to the floor, her crossed wrists held rigidly in a steel grip just below her breast. Then, with his free hand, he swept the skirts of her robe and gown upward. . . .