Mark of the white brand... Kinnahauk gazed down at the scrawny, half drowned woman. This was the virgin mate promised him by the Great Spirit? Yet the fire mark on her brow matched the one on his own gleaming chest. Bridget Abbott gazed fearfully at the magnificent half naked savage standing before her. Clearly she was far from the colonies, and from the planter she'd promised to wed. Had she escaped being burned as a witch in England only to be eaten alive by this golden eyed heathen? Destiny had brought their two worlds together, only the heat of passion could make the two worlds one.