CursedLaird by Tara Nina Read Free Book Online

into stone
centuries ago by Hume MacGillivray. He hated mi brathair , Gavin, for
marrying Tavia. He issued the curse of the gargoyle against them and imprisoned
them. But the curse was not final. When he realized his mistake, he set out to
find their statues and destroy them. That is why they were hidden. I was given
an anti-curse with which to free them.”
    “And ye didn’t. Why?” The judgmental implication in Mary’s
tone irked Akira, but she stifled the anger and explained.
    “It was a partial release. I could not in good conscience
release them to suffer a half-life. Man by night and stone by day.”
    “Oooo,” Mary sighed, sadness lacing her tone. “It is a
horrid design to this curse.”
    “Aye, but there is a path to true freedom,” Akira proclaimed
with a smile. “ Gaol , love.”
    “ Gaol ?” Mary’s brows bunched and Akira read her
confusion.
    Akira placed her arm around Mary’s shoulders. “ M’Caraid ,
let mi teach ye the verse of the anti-curse with which ye are to share with
this Caledonia. Ye must teach her to speak it clearly in Gaelic for it to
work.”
    “Will it save Struan from the curse?”
    “It shall be a start,” Akira claimed. “The rest lay in the
hands of gaol . May his cold heart open for the arms o’ love.”

Chapter Three
     
    Caledonia cleaned the statue into the wee hours of the
morning. Long after the others went to bed, she stayed and worked. Something
inside her drove her to continue, until her arms ached and her hands cramped.
She cupped the statue’s cheek and stared at his eyes.
    “Oh, if you were real,” she whispered longingly.
    Tired fingers traced his masculine jaw then dropped to
linger on his chest, before absently trailing lower. His shirt was tucked
neatly into the waistband of his kilt, which ended above his knee. A belt
wrapped his narrow waist. What looked like a rabbit-fur sporran hung at his
right hip. Solid, muscled calves were visible and she bet if she lifted his
kilt, matching thighs supported this gorgeous hunk.
    Not to mention what she might find between them. She
trembled at the thought. Don’t go there. You really are suffering from sleep
deprivation if a statue’s making you horny. Caledonia stepped back but
couldn’t stop her seriously tired perusal of this masterpiece. She’d scrubbed
every section of this creation and studied every nook and cranny. Nowhere on it
did she find the artist’s signature, a date, or any indication as to who posed
for this statue.
    Caledonia continued to linger in its presence, even though
her body begged for bed. She shrugged off the tiredness for a moment longer as
she circled the statue one more time, trailing her hand along its fine
attributes. There were no visible flaws in this man’s physique. Strong arms
meant to protect. She palmed his biceps. Massive. Before she could stop
herself, she fantasized about being wrapped in those arms. Warm. Safe.
Protected.
    She shook her head and glanced around to make sure no one
witnessed her moment of insanity. Nope. What did she expect? It was three in
the morning. No one else was even up at this ungodly hour. She took one last,
long look at her prize then put her tools away. Dead tired, she locked the side
door to the oversized shed they’d converted into the central station for the
salvage business. Its location at the dock behind their family cottage made it
convenient. She hesitated with her hand upon the outside handle.
    Was he safe?
    He? The statue, was it safe? she silently
reprimanded.
    Normally she didn’t think twice about leaving anything
inside the salvage shed. Something sparked mistrust to skitter across her skin
in the form of chills, which ended with the tiny hairs on the back of her neck
standing on end. Caledonia tried to swallow the unsubstantiated sensation. No
one stole in this village. Everyone knew everyone. They were one big, extended
family. But Kip wasn’t a part of the village and he was here. Would he
steal from