A Highlander for Christmas by Debbie Macomber, Christina Skye Read Free Book Online Page A

beautiful mouth thinned. “Of course she is.”
    “Why would I lie?”
    “I haven’t the faintest idea.” She shrugged. “But most men do.”
    Time stood still. As her perfume drifted, Jared felt heat claw up through his chest. When had he last felt this jolting, almost painful awareness? Why now, for a woman he barely knew?
    He was still searching for an answer when he felt a draft at his back. The bell above the door tinkled sharply as a man in a rumpled raincoat pushed inside.
    Maggie Kincade gave a gasp of surprise as a camera whirred off half a dozen shots, capturing her gown, her necklace, and her sudden expression of panic.

CHAPTER THREE

    Without thinking, Jared moved in front of Maggie, blocking her with his body. “I suggest you head back outside. Now .”
    “Out of the way, pal. She’s the one I want. Ms. Kincade, what about that necklace you’re wearing? Did your father leave it for you? How do you know those aren’t some of the gems that were—”
    Stolen.
    Even before the word was said aloud, Jared’s hand was curled around the man’s neck. “You’re not listening. Ms. Kincade is busy.”
    The reporter squared his shoulders. “Who says?”
    “Irrelevant. Because you’re just about to leave.”
    “Like hell.” The camera fell and the man’s fists leveled. “What makes you think I give a rat’s ass what you have to say, pal?”
    Jared dodged the first swing easily, then sidestepped and caught the reporter in a chest lock. Without a word, he shoved the sputtering man outside, then closed the etched glass door in his face. The man glared through the glass, raised his camera, and then muttered a crude phrase, which he emphasized with a noisy ball of spit at the door frame.
    Fury burned a red swath through Jared’s mind as he went in pursuit. Maggie’s hand touched his shoulder, stopping him
    “Don’t.”
    Blocked by layers of fabric, he felt only the indirect contact of her fingers. For a blinding instant he had an urgent need to touch her, to cradle her cheek and trace the curve of her neck so he could read her with all the fierce intimacy of his gift.
    It seemed to take forever before he mastered the urge, and the struggle left his voice harder than he intended. “Why not? The bloody fool ought to clean your doorway on his hands and knees.”
    “I like the image.” She gave a crooked smile. “But he’s not worth your time. None of them are.”
    “They do this often?” Jared stood very still, hating the idea that this happened to her on a regular basis.
    “Often enough. It’s better not to provoke them. Like most hive creatures, they behave badly when you stir them up.” There was bitterness in her voice, a bitterness that Jared understood well.
    “Then maybe you need an exterminator.” He remembered his own awkward fight through a crowd of jostling reporters upon his return from Thailand. At least the government had run interference for him, but Maggie Kincade appeared to have no one to help her. “You should hire a guard,” he said tightly.
    “We’ve been considering the idea.”
    Jared watched the reporter make a rude gesture, then amble back across the street. “Someone who could break their cameras as well as their smug faces.”
    A half-smile curved her lips. “That idea has definite attractions.” She gave a small shrug. “But it would only lead to more trouble. They never give up.” Someone called her name from the other side of the velvet curtain. “I’d better go. But thanks for caring. It’s very kind of you.”
    “No.” Jared searched her face. Once again he had the sense of a bright, restless flame caught behind glass. One day the flame would flare up, sharp and bright, and he envied the man who was there to warm himself at that fire when it happened.
    “I’m not kind,” he murmured. “Quite the opposite. I enjoyed helping you and that’s why I did it.” To his shock he realized his hand was rising to her cheek. What was wrong with him? She was