Highland Sinner by Hannah Howell Read Free Book Online Page B

be faithful. Her only responsibility was to try to do what she could to make sure he did not hang for crimes he had not committed.
    Tormand watched the crowd meander away and then turned to look at Morainn Ross. He felt his breath catch in his throat as he met her gaze. Wide blue eyes, the color of the sea, stared up at him with surprise and a touch of wariness. Her hair was as black as any he had ever seen, tumbling to her waist in long thick waves. It was impossible to get a good look at her figure beneath her dark cloak, but he caught glimpses of high, full breasts and nicely rounded hips. She was not as small as many of the women in his family, but she was not tall, either. He suspected the top of her head would tuck in just neatly under his chin.
    It was her face that fascinated him the most, however. Her dark brows were perfect arches over her beautiful eyes and her lashes were long and thick, accentuating their rich color. Her skin held no blemishes, a true rarity, and was touched with a soft hint of gold. He wondered if that was the color of all her skin and quickly banished the thought when he felt himself begin to grow hard. Her nose was small and straight and the bones of her heart-shaped face were neatly cut from her high cheekbones to her surprisingly firm chin. Her mouth was a little wide and her lips were temptingly full, almost lush. This was not the woman he had expected to see when Walter had spoken of the Ross witch.
    “Go home, Mistress Ross,” said Simon. “It might be best if ye try to avoid coming here for a while.”
    “Because Ide might actually get those fools to listen to her evil lies?” Morainn asked, feeling her anger stir at the unfairness of it all and knowing too well that the answer to her question was a resounding aye.
    “I fear so. ’Tis unfair, but it would be a bad time to argue that.” After Morainn curtsied and left, Simon turned to Sir William. “I am done now. Ye may see to your wife. My deepest condolences.”
    Sir William nodded, but then looked toward Morainn. “Are ye certain she isnae a witch? The church says—”
    “The church says a lot of things few of us heed. She isnae a witch, Sir William. She is a good healer. Nay more.”
    “They say she has visions.”
    Simon nodded. “I have heard that but if the visions she has only aid people, then where is the evil in that?
    Go, Sir William, tend to your wife and let us find this killer.”
    As Simon and Tormand walked away, Simon quietly said, “They threw out a child.”
    Page 23
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    “Aye.” Tormand was a little surprised at the rage he felt over that. “I had expected a woman of at least middle years, if nay some old crone. Mayhap Walter’s suggestion has some merit.”
    “What suggestion?”
    “That I take something the killer or the victim touched and see if she has some vision of the who, what, or why.”
    “Ye just want to see her again.”
    Tormand just smiled. He would not deny it. What troubled him was the strength of the attraction he felt for her. His interest had never been grasped so quickly, so fiercely. It was worrisome, but he knew that would make no difference in the end. She might not be a witch, but she definitely had some power and Tormand knew that power would soon pull him to her side.
    Chapter 4
    His eyes were so full of passion’s fire she could feel the heat upon her skin as he looked at her.
    The dual colors of his eyes grew brighter, the blue and the green sharper and clearer as he pulled her into his arms. Morainn purred in welcome as his sinful mouth covered hers. She wrapped her arms around his strong body as he ravished her mouth, his clever tongue stirring a heat within her that she had never felt before.
    Eager and ready for more of him, she pulled at his clothes as he pulled at hers until they were both blessedly naked. The sight of him took her breath away. When their flesh touched she moaned with