Stolen by the Scottish Rogue

Honestly, it’s just common sense: don’t ever, for any reason, fall in love with a pirate. No matter how tempting or toe-curlingly gorgeous he is. And especially not when he steals you from your own wedding… One minute, I’m being married off to a horrible, cruel man to sweeten a family business arrangement. And the next? My wedding yacht is being stolen, with me on it, by the powerful, roguish Highlander, Lord Malcolm McAuley. Former pirate. Ex-soldier. Full-time scoundrel. He also happens to be toe-curlingly gorgeous, sinfully tempting, and utterly irresistible. I should want nothing to do with the crude, filthy-talking alpha who’s stolen me from my own damn wedding. But the more I tell myself no, the more I want to tell him yes—to anything he wants… Anything. Losing myself in those piercing blue eyes and wickedly perfect lips is dangerous. Giving in to his filthy words and pulse-quickening touch is a sin. He tells me I’m his, and the most sinful thing of all? …I’m pretty sure he’s right. Get tempted by tartan and jump right into filthy little bundle of trope clichés. Hot, wild, alpha af, and WILDLY historically inaccurate. Try not to get hung up on the historical details. Trust me, I didn’t ;). Warning: not responsible for lost or ripped bodices. Reader beware

Honestly, it’s just common sense: don’t ever, for any reason, fall in love with a pirate. No matter how tempting or toe-curlingly gorgeous he is. And especially not when he steals you from your own wedding… One minute, I’m being married off to a horrible, cruel man to sweeten a family business arrangement. And the next? My wedding yacht is being stolen, with me on it, by the powerful, roguish Highlander, Lord Malcolm McAuley. Former pirate. Ex-soldier. Full-time scoundrel. He also happens to be toe-curlingly gorgeous, sinfully tempting, and utterly irresistible. I should want nothing to do with the crude, filthy-talking alpha who’s stolen me from my own damn wedding. But the more I tell myself no, the more I want to tell him yes—to anything he wants… Anything. Losing myself in those piercing blue eyes and wickedly perfect lips is dangerous. Giving in to his filthy words and pulse-quickening touch is a sin. He tells me I’m his, and the most sinful thing of all? …I’m pretty sure he’s right. Get tempted by tartan and jump right into filthy little bundle of trope clichés. Hot, wild, alpha af, and WILDLY historically inaccurate. Try not to get hung up on the historical details. Trust me, I didn’t ;). Warning: not responsible for lost or ripped bodices. Reader beware