CursedLaird by Tara Nina Read Free Book Online Page A

her?
    Again.
    Caledonia double-checked the lock as she tried to douse the
flame of suspicion igniting in her gut. Not in her hometown. He wouldn’t have
the nerve to try anything. Rubbing the back of her neck, she decided this line
of thought wouldn’t have occurred if she weren’t so tired. Kip didn’t have the
balls to act against her, not with Abel and Percy as her bodyguards. A smile
upturned her lips and she noted the effort even that small action took. She
walked the short distance across the yard, entered through the back door and
painstakingly dragged her tired butt upstairs to her room.
    The quick, hot shower did nothing to ease the ache of her
strained muscles, but at least it removed the dirt and silt. Afterward, too
tired to care or dress, she dropped face-first onto the bed, wrapped in an
oversized towel. Images of him filled her brain. No matter how she tried, she
couldn’t stop thinking of the mystery man behind the statue. Was he a member of
a royal family? What was his place in Scottish history? Was he kind, loving and
passionate?
    She bet those lips were tasty. And those hands… Umm, they
probably knew how to touch and tease a woman to perfection. If the size of his
hands were any indication, then his penis probably wouldn’t fail to please,
either.
    Oh god, was she exhausted. Caledonia huffed, dragging the
pillow from under the bedspread and tucking it beneath her head. Squeezing her
eyes shut tight, she urged her thoughts to cease. She needed to rest and
thinking of a hot Scottish laird who didn’t exist got her nowhere. Instead it
made her ache for something she couldn’t have.
    “Caledonia.”
    Her eyes opened wide, but she saw nothing but the bedding.
Cautiously, Caledonia lifted and slowly turned to look in the direction of the
voice. Beside her window stood the female ghost she swore she saw earlier on
the Marcail Struana . She sat upright, rubbed her eyes, but the spirit
remained. It didn’t disappear.
    The woman floated closer and coolness surrounded Caledonia
to the point she wrapped the bedspread around her to fight the sudden chill.
The woman stood small in size, had large doe-like eyes that were striking in
her petite, oval face. Her hair was coifed in an ancient do that Caledonia knew
from her studies meant she was a woman of privilege.
    “I have come to give ye a message.”
    “A message,” Caledonia managed to sputter through dry lips.
“Who are you?”
    “I am Mary Campbell of Breadalbane,” she stated proudly with
her chin tilted, giving Caledonia the impression she was considered an
important person in her time. “Ye have found a lost MacKinnon brathair .
It is up to ye to free him from the curse.”
    Caledonia quickly darted a glance to the bed to see if she
were actually still lying there and this was a strange dream. Nope, she wasn’t
having an out-of-body experience, so this must be real. She pinched herself and
instantly knew she was awake. Staring at the ghost, she stumbled over her
words.
    “Whhhhaaat…” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Save
who from what? I don’t understand.”
    “Let mi explain,” the ghostly figure said.
    It settled on the bed beside her as if they were two young
girls at a slumber party and one was about to spill a secret. Coldness wafted
off the spirit’s form in waves. If she’d known company was coming she would
have dressed proper for bed, instead of wearing nothing but a towel after her
shower. Caledonia shuddered as she tucked the blanket tighter around her
against the chill. She did a double take to make sure nothing peeked out from
beneath the blanket.
    Not that she was modest or shy. She couldn’t count the
number of times in her life she or the O’Reillys changed in front of one
another, but she’d grown up with them. They were like her brothers. This ghost
wasn’t. From her appearance, Caledonia knew this spirit was old. If she had to
guess from Mary’s clothes, seventeenth or eighteenth century, maybe,