Haunted Warrior by Allie Mackay Read Free Book Online

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    Other things also remained.
    More than dark and mist curled around the stone cottages come nightfall. Just as foaming swells weren’t all that crashed against the breakwaters. And curious old women weren’t always responsible for the twitching edges of curtains when a stranger passed by.
    Pennard held dangerous secrets.
    And his was the most damning of all.
    Scowling again, Graeme snatched a dry cloth and began polishing the driver’s door of the car, scrubbing with a vengeance.
    It scarce mattered that his burden was a noble one.
    Keeping Pennard and its residents safe was a legacy his family had carried for centuries. Their status and title as Guardians of the Shadow Wand, a timeless relic entrusted to their care with all the honor’s attendant requirements, had altered his life.
    And duty alone was the reason he’d return the American lassie’s car by parking it outside the Laughing Gull. He’d leave the key with Iain rather than inviting her for a walk along the shore, followed by an offer to cook dinner for her. He wouldn’t regret not treating her to a romantic Scottish evening before his peat fire.
    Women, as far as he could recall, enjoyed snuggling before the hearth on chill, damp nights when the mist pressed against the windows. The occasional call of afoghorn or the sound of the sea running out beyond the arm of the harbor didn’t hurt, either.
    Suchlike made a woman lean into a man, welcoming his strong embrace.
    And Kendra Chase was a woman he wouldn’t mind pulling into his arms. Lithe and shapely, she had the kind of well-­made curves that would fill a man’s arms nicely, warming him on the fiercest winter night. He liked her shining blond hair, cut at her chin. The first time she’d turned her gaze on him when he was on the dunes at Balmedie, her large blue eyes captivated him, instantly heating his blood.
    But it was how those sparkling sapphire eyes had widened, then softened with understanding when he’d told her what Scotland’s Past’s plans would do to the locals, that sealed it for him.
    She might be an outsider, a tourist from a world and culture he couldn’t begin to comprehend and also didn’t care to, but she clearly appreciated the importance of heritage and pride in one’s birthplace.
    Her spirit also drew him. She would’ve driven down Cliff Road simply to prove to him that she could, even though dread had been written all over her face.
    Instinct told him she’d respond if he pursued her. He burned to do so. To bring her here to the Keel for just this one night. An indulgence he shouldn’t allow himself, especially not with her, yet the prospect proved almost irresistible. Even the thought of standing behind her, holding her arms lightly and bending his head to give her a simple neck nuzzle, set his pulse to roaring.
    If he restrained himself, it might be possible to just enjoy her company.
    A few kisses and…
    He cursed and tossed the drying towel onto the bench beside his cottage’s blue-­painted door.
    If Kendra Chase came anywhere near him again, he’d want more than kisses from her.
    He already did.
    He also felt a chill sweep the back of his neck in the same moment that Jock sprang to his feet and leapt off the door stoop. Not feigning sleep now, the dog snarled, hackles rising. Then he shot around the corner, making for the shed at the back of the cottage.
    “Jock, wait!” Graeme sprinted after him, wishing as so many times before that his dog was less bold.
    Canine heroics led to heartache.
    Running faster, Graeme raced down the muddy path alongside the house, nipping around Jock just before the dog could launch himself at the spike-­haired youth who stood frozen before the shed door.
    He was Ritchie Watt, local ne’er-­do-­well.
    And he’d been trying to break into the shed.
    Jock froze, as well. But he shook with menace, his growls reverberating low in his chest.
    “Inside, Jock.” Graeme jerked his head toward the front of the cottage, fixing