Cowboys and Highlanders by Tarah Scott, KyAnn Waters Read Free Book Online Page A

Moonlight glistened on the dark hair that cascaded down her cloaked shoulders. She straightened in the saddle, sharpening the curve of her breasts. He imagined his hand sliding over them and downward to the soft curls nestled below. Marcus shifted in the saddle to accommodate his growing arousal. Elise shook her head and ran a hand through her hair. What would she do if he took her now? Just when he'd convinced himself she wouldn't resist, his mind snapped to attention at hearing an unexpected noise.
    "Do you—" she began.
    "Hush," Marcus commanded in a whisper.
    He reined in alongside her. Grabbing her mare's bridle, he pulled both horses to a stop. He dismounted, then hauled her down from the saddle and drew her close to whisper in her ear, "There is a hill just ahead. I'm going for a look. Do not move." He shoved the reins into her hand and slinked into the darkness.
    Near the top of the hill, Marcus crouched, then finally went to his knees, crawling the last few feet to the crest. Between the hill where he crouched and the opposite hill, three men on horses picked their way across the rocky ground. Their colors were indistinguishable, but he knew they were Campbells.
    When he had demanded Shamus's killer be turned over to him, John Campbell had complied after Marcus and his men threatened to take John in his kinsmen's place. The fact the man was turned over to Peter McKinlay of the Glasgow police for a proper trial made no difference. John Campbell had been furious.
    The men disappeared into the trees, and Marcus hesitated. The keep was another ten minutes' ride. Could he send Elise on alone? He remembered Katie MacGregor and cursed. He couldn't gamble with Elise's safety.
    Marcus quietly made his way back down the hill and, minutes later, distinguished her form in the darkness. "Elise," he called in a whisper.
    Her head jerked in his direction, but she didn't cry out. After another instant, he reached her side. He grasped her shoulders and pulled her close, whispering, "We must ride—and fast." She started. "All will be well." He squeezed her shoulders. "You ride with me. Can you stay in the saddle?"
    She nodded.
    "Good lass." He reached for the reins
    She grabbed his arm. "What's happened?"
    He hesitated. "Campbells."
    She glanced at the hill. "So close to Brahan Seer?"
    "Aye."
    Marcus vaulted into his stallion's saddle, then extended a hand toward her. Elise yanked her skirts thigh high, grabbed his hand, and jumped nimbly up behind him as he pulled. She wrapped her arms around his midsection. The soft contours of her breasts pressed into his back. He gritted his teeth and nudged the stallion into a quiet walk, keeping the mare close until they were well out of earshot of the small camp. Then he urged the stallion into a gallop.
     
    The men on the castle walls sprang to life at their approach half an hour later. Marcus brought their horses to a skidding halt before the gate. "Open!" he shouted. "'Tis me, Marcus."
    The gate creaked open and he drove the horses through before the doors had swung wide. He halted amongst the gathering warriors and brought his leg over the horse's head, sliding from the saddle.
    "Marshall," he called to the nearest man as he pulled Elise from the saddle, "find Daniel and have him gather twenty men. We ride in ten minutes. Where is my father?"
    "I dinna' know," Marshall answered. "Mayhap the great hall?"
    Marcus started off, then stopped and whirled to see Elise standing where he left her. "Go to your cottage," he ordered then, cursing the powers that be, set out after his father.
    * * * *
    Elise glanced at Michael, who rode alongside her. His gaze remained directly ahead. The rigid set of his mouth indicated he was still angry with her for coming alone to his cottage. Guilt unsettled her. His anger was born out of concern, and he was more right than she cared to admit. To make matters worse, the trip had been a waste. He hadn't received a recent copy of the Sunday Times .
    Birds abruptly