Highlander's Hope by Collette Cameron Read Free Book Online Page A

the welcoming bed. After folding the weighty coverlet to the end of the bed, she hopped onto the mattress, then flopped onto her back. “Oh, this is wonderful,” She said, sliding between the cool, satin sheets. Sighing in contentment, she turned onto her side, tucking her knife beneath the pillow.
    Edgar had experienced the end of her blade once. She’d not hesitate to use it on him again.
    Ewan closed the door without whisper, then strode across the carpet to the window and slid the curtains aside. With a twist, he unfastened the latch, before shoving the sash open, letting in the bright moonlight and refreshing night air. He inhaled, savoring the tangy coolness. Standing in the path of the light breeze, he removed his coat. Habit caused him to survey the deserted street below.
    With measured tread, he moved to the chair. He grinned and shook his head. It had become second nature to him to move about a room soundlessly after so many years working as a spy.
    He sat, then toed off his Hessian boots. The rest of his garments followed. He rose and stood naked before the window. With one last lingering look, he padded to the washstand in an alcove, where a second, smaller window gleamed with moonlight.
    As always, the washstand was prepared with water, towels, and soap. His garments would be pressed and hung in the wardrobe, and the satin sheets he required would be washed and spread upon the mattress.
    Lord, he craved some sleep.
    Without a doubt, Marquardt was in London. He’d been seen in the less reputable establishments Ewan had visited this evening.
    That’s not to say the evening had been a total loss. He grinned in satisfaction. Belvidere’s lair had been uncovered, thanks to a tip from Nighthawk. No one knew who the phantom informer was, but he had been assisting the War Office for over four years.
    With the help of Yancy’s agents, Belvidere was detained. Yancy and Ewan had spent the past several hours interrogating the spy, who had remained stubbornly closemouthed about his association with Marquardt.
    He sighed in frustration. Blister it. Ewan wanted to be done with this subterfuge. For over six years he’d been at Yancy’s beck and call. No, that wasn’t fair. He’d been at Prinny’s beck and call. Ewan yearned for Craiglocky, his clan, and his kin. His obligation to the crown came first, though. Until he caught the treasonous bastard—he exhaled in frustration—the highlands would have to wait.
    After splashing water on his face and head, Ewan lathered a bar of soap, and quickly washed. Toweling off, he tied the linen about his waist and cleansed his teeth. He ran a hand across his face. Shaving could wait until morning. He winced when he connected with the tender skin on his jaw. Grinning, he recalled the precise moment his charming passenger had smacked her head on his chin.
    He yanked the toweling from his hips, then rubbed the cloth across his hair one more time before turning in the bed’s direction. Bunching the linen, he lifted his arm to toss it on the nearby chair and froze.
    Lying on his bed, sound asleep, was Miss Stapleton. He’d known she was staying here. Ian had told him as much, but what was she doing in his chamber?
    Doubting his senses, he shook his head to clear his muddled mind. Was he so exhausted his sleep deprived brain conjured her image? Was he hallucinating? Or was it the excess of spirits he’d consumed tonight while venturing into numerous pubs, gambling dens, and other hell-holes?
    He approached the bed. She lay on her back, her shift midway up her thighs. She’d kicked the sheets aside in her sleep. One slender arm curved above her head, and the other lay across her midsection. The moonlight illuminated her golden hair fanned across the pillow and wrapped around one shoulder. A shiny lock curled under one breast.
    What was she doing in his bed?
    Ewan watched the rise and fall of her chest as she slept. Her full breasts, their dusky peaks barely discernible through the