Angel of Skye by May McGoldrick Read Free Book Online Page A

that the laird had never even glanced toward her.
    This was the closest Fiona had ever come to Lord Macpherson. As he strode confidently over to the sword lying in the grass, she knew that she had never seen a man quite like this one. Something stirred within her as she watched his every move. He stood for a moment, studying the blade as if trying to identify its origin. He was tall and powerful. His blond hair was tied at the nape of his neck, though golden strands that had escaped their bonds framed his ruggedly handsome features. She had not been able to pick up the color of his eyes or look into them, but somehow she knew that they, too. would be beautiful. He turned toward her, and she lowered her face, blushing at her own forward thoughts. Her heart pounded and something melted within her.
    Run, she told herself. Run while you can.
    Alec eyed the cloaked figure standing like a statue before him. The hood covered any possibility of seeing her face, and her hands were hidden in the folds of her garment. The clapper hanging from her rope belt signaled her illness, and the cough had been wrenching to hear—but he had seen her run. She had the speed of a doe, and she had not coughed once since he’d entered the clearing. And then there was her stance, her straight-backed, fearless stance. There is more here than meets the eye, he thought.
    “There is no need for you to run away,” he began, noting her discomfort as she edged away from him. “If you had let me help you before, this would never have–”
    “There was no need for your help, m’lord,” she interrupted in a husky whisper.
    If there was any doubt in his mind that this was the same woman, now it washed away. It was the voice...the same voice.
    “You’re wrong about needing my help. But come, I’ll take you to your destination,” he replied, looking up and waving his fist in a circle at the falcon that was gliding on the air currents far overhead.
    “I stand corrected, m’lord,” she conceded. “There is no further need of your assistance. I travel this way often.”
    “And I suppose you run into these types often?” he snapped, gesturing toward the woods where the three outlaws had disappeared. Could this woman be so dense?
    Fiona could not answer him immediately. His directness, his nearness was disarming, and her inability to respond to him was disconcerting for the young woman. She simply shrugged her shoulders in silence.
    Alec looked away from the woman and held his hand aloft. When he whistled shrilly, Fiona looked up and watched the powerful bird change direction immediately and dive with incredible speed. Just above them, the falcon pulled up suddenly, settling gracefully on the man’s leather-covered wrist. With a twinge of sadness, she watched the snowy peregrine surrender her freedom. But when the bird alighted, Fiona realized that the warrior’s eyes were not on the hawk. They were on her face. Flustered, she looked down immediately.
    “Those three louts could be waiting for you just inside these woods,” Alec said, trying to smooth the irritation out of his voice. He did not want to dwell on the situation that had just occurred. But in truth, he was angry with himself for just letting them go. “It is not safe for you–“
    “You let them go,” she interrupted, adding belatedly, “m’lord.”
    The warrior raised an eyebrow, considering the small cloaked figure standing so assertively in the shadow of the huge horse. What was she, his conscience? She wore a crofter’s garment, but she hadn’t the tongue of a peasant. She certainly shows no fear of me, Alec thought with curiosity. Indeed, he had caught a glimpse of the lower portion of her face within the hood, and what he had seen had surprised him. She had the most sensuous mouth and the smoothest skin of any leper he had ever run across.
    “Aye,” he said with a note of weariness, feeding Swift a tidbit of meat from the pouch at his waist. “I did let them go. But then