Scot of My Dreams by Janice Maynard Read Free Book Online Page A

me to have anyone tower over me. Bryce didn’t exactly tower , but at six-three or six-four, he did manage to make me feel small and delicate—no easy feat.
    It was a silly reaction on my part. Maybe my gut response went back to the days when a woman chose her mate based on his physical ability to best an enemy. Suddenly, all I could think about was Jamie Fraser, my fictional crush from Outlander, and how he would do anything to protect and defend the love of his life.
    Now, here at my side was a man easily the physical equal of Jamie. Bryce was a sophisticated, clearly highly-educated man of the world, in many respects nothing at all like the eighteenth-century Highlander I had come to know and love. But both men had a fierce intensity I found wildly attractive and appealing.
    The fact that Bryce wore a kilt with such easy confidence was my Kryptonite. It shouldn’t have mattered. When my friends and I arrived at the train station in Inverness recently, we saw a guy in a kilt playing the bagpipes, hoping to solicit donations from tourists.
    I’d barely glanced at him. So it couldn’t be only the tartan around the hips of my host that was making my heart pound and my hands shake. It had to be something else. Something big. Something preordained.
    Maybe this was the moment. Perhaps I had traveled across an ocean to find my one true love. Maybe Hayley and McKenzie weren’t so goofy after all.
    Without warning, I stumbled over a hidden root. Bryce grabbed my arm to steady me. Despite the warmth of his fingers on the bare skin of my arm, the momentary misstep was enough to jerk me back to reality.
    What was I thinking? Had somebody laced my luncheon drink with crazy juice? I was about the farthest thing from a romantic on the planet. I knew full well how difficult it was for a man and a woman to sustain the passion of a lifetime. My parents had barely made it a decade before bills and shouting matches and general dissatisfaction with life convinced my father to walk out.
    Unfortunately, my mother was never a strong person. She’d been woefully unprepared for life as a single parent.
    I had learned hard lessons at an early age.
    Why was I letting Hayley, McKenzie, Outlander, and this incredible country get inside my head? I knew who I was. I had made a life for myself that meant I would never have to lean on a man for support—emotionally, financially, or otherwise. I couldn’t let vacation madness entice me into doing something foolish.
    “I need to go home now,” I said. “Thank you for lunch and the tour.”
    Bryce pulled up short. “Was it something I said?”
    His self-deprecating question was offered with a smile.
    I wrapped my arms around my waist. “Of course not. I’ve taken up far too much of your day. First I ruined your fishing. Then I invaded your home. It’s time for me to leave.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that.” He lowered his head towards me.
    In a split second, I knew he was going to kiss me. The sun was hot on my back. I felt dizzy and alive and at the same time confused. Maybe this was all a dream.
    Just when I thought the moment would never end, Bryce cleared his throat and stepped back. “I’ll get the car,” he said. “And bring it around. You can meet me out back where we came in with Brodie. I’m sure he’ll want to say goodbye. But be careful—I haven’t had time to bathe him yet.”
    When we stepped inside the castle, Bryce disappeared and the spell was broken. I found my raffia tote in the kitchen. After thanking Mrs. Argyle for her help, I said my goodbyes, including one to Brodie, who actually managed to seem repentant. Quite a feat for a dog.
    I had walked miles this morning, but the return trip in Bryce’s luxury sedan was all too quick. Outside the hostel, he shut off the engine and rested his forearm on the steering wheel as he turned to face me. “I’d like to see you again, Willow. Will you have dinner with me one evening?”
    The invitation caught me off guard. This