Highland Destiny by Laura Hunsaker Read Free Book Online Page B

reigns of his horse his arm brushing her waist, and the other was tucking her hair behind her ear. She felt his lips against her ear, and she couldn't repress the shiver that ran down her spine.
    "Once we arrive at my keep, you will dress accordingly. I doona care how you dressed in America, but while here, you'll dress appropriately." His voice was so low she mostly felt his breath rather than heard his words, causing the hair on her arms to stand on end. But the implicit threat in his command got under her skin.
    "And if I refuse? My clothes are perfectly fine." Fine for the 21st century.
    "Doona test me, lass. Your state of undress is an invitation, and be careful someone doesna take you up on it."
    Connor trailed his fingers from where he was holding her hair back at her ear down her neck, sliding underneath her cloak, to her shoulder, slipping her spaghetti strap down as his 53
    fingers continued down her arm to settle at her waist. His light touch was a hot brand on her skin; she felt the heat through her clothes. His voice was husky as he breathed in her ear, "You are a beautiful woman, Mistress Stewart, and not many men have my honor or self-control in the face of what you so blatantly offer."
"Self-contro...huh!" Mackenzie huffed, and shrugged her strap back into place. She glared straight ahead and prepared to give him the silent treatment.
    When Connor had gone down to the loch to offer the Stewart lass some water, he'd been stunned by how her blonde hair was swirled about her face by no breeze he could sense. The dawning sun streaked the skies and her hair with golds, and yellows, and reds. The red in her hair was undetectable normally, but when the sun peeked out from behind a few clouds, her hair had been ablaze with the fiery colors. He'd been stunned by the ethereal beauty of this girl.
    As her filmy white shirt, something akin to a shortened sark, had lifted in the unfelt breeze, it showed a tantalizing glimpse of skin. Something glinted in her navel, but before he could see what, her shirt fell around her once more.
    He was irritated with himself for being so distracted with her, but he knew she must be thirsty. Connor stepped up next to her and handed her the water. When she drank, his eyes never left her lips. He was imagining what those lips would feel like on his, and what they could do. Dangerous thoughts. He almost groaned aloud as her tongue flicked out to catch any drops left on her incredibly sensual lips.
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    He grasped her wrist and told her that it was time to leave.
He should have known she'd be defiant. She did nothing that a proper lady should. And he did not like having his commands questioned. So when she questioned him as to their destination, he spun her back towards the loch, and pointed at his home. She didn't turn when she asked him if that was where he lived, and he wondered what he would see in her eyes. She turned toward him then, and he realized that he hadn't answered her. She stared up at him, a little nervously, he thought, when she said his land was beautiful.
    But on the last word, beautiful , she sounded wistful. What did that mean? So when Connor finally answered her, he was more abrupt that he'd meant to be, but she was not what he had expected. He'd thought she would be a spoiled, simpering, silly girl. Instead she was intriguing, headstrong, and brave. But when he'd heard her correct his use of her name to Mackenzie , his temper had flared. If she were related to the thieving, murdering clan Mackenzie, well he would make sure she would be sorry for that lie.
    Her little tantrum had eaten away at his unusually firm resolve. He had never encountered anyone who was so maddening in his entire life. His "little feud" as she'd so dismissively called it, had eaten away at his men's spirits, and crops and livestock for two years now. Even now, as he and the Mackenzie were at a tentative peace, he'd known that something was being planned to out maneuver him. But he'd gotten