Stomping down the cottage’s hallway, Ceri came to the bedroom door and frowned at his back. He was setting his screens up on her brother’s tiny desk like he meant to be here forever. “This isn’t going to work.”

The only response Lorne Ross gave her was a grunt.

“Why can’t you just return to London?” she cried.

“Reid told me.” He gave her one glance, his curly hair dancing off his shoulders in a splash of fiery brilliance. “Possession is key in this battle. Ye will not be driving me out.”

“Bloody hell.” She wrapped her arms around her again, her hands tightening on her waist in frustration.

He plugged his computer into the wall. Nothing happened. “Bloody damn hell.”

Ceri jumped back as his words blasted into the room.

“Ye.” He straightened, his long, lean body taut with rage.

“Me?” She took another step back.

“Yes, ye.” With one step, he came into her personal space like a wild, willful storm. He smelled of lightning and power, of anger and heat. “Ye did this to my computer.”

His shout echoed in her ears, and when she looked into his eyes, she saw she was in trouble. Big trouble.

Jerking away, she made for her bedroom.

“Och. No, ye don’t.” His rawboned fingers grabbed her arm before she’d taken a step, and yanked her into his damp embrace. “Ye owe me.”

The power of him encircled her. Beyond the inflexible grip of his grasp, he came around her like a blistering gale, a Scottish invasion.

Her hands pushed on his hard chest. “Take your hands off me.”

“No.” His grip tightened, bringing her breasts flat to his chest and pressing his solid erection into the crease between her legs.

He was excited. Dangerously excited.

Shock and an immediate answering excitement burst inside her. With a gasp, she realized her robe had loosened below. The rough scrape of denim on the skin of her thighs made her dizzy.

With need.

With angry, frustrated, amazing need.

She glared into his slate-blue gaze that still held a dark rage. “Are you going to rape me, you bastard?”

“No.” His eyes widened. “And I’m not a bastard. My mum was married to my da.”

He was such an odd man. He’d taken her literally, the dumb jerk. “What are you going to do with me then?”

They stood, silence lengthening between them. His arms didn’t grow tighter or loosen. His body still was tense and taut on hers. His erection didn’t soften.

He stared at her, puzzlement softening the rage in his eyes. “Now there’s a question, lass. There’s a question.”

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