Teresa Medeiros by Whisper of Roses Read Free Book Online Page A

candles? Of their own volition, her feet dragged her toward the stairs, drawn as if magnetized to the source of her unease.
    “Sabrina! What in heaven’s name are you doing out of bed at this hour?”
    Her mother’s cry jerked her out of her reverie. She realized she was standing at the foot of the stairs. A rush of half-formed impressions buffeted her. Her father’s worried frown. The open leers of the MacDonnell men as they nudged each other under the tables. Morgan’s black scowl.
    Brian’s words carried through the hall. “Good God, Alex, is that blood all over her gown?”
    Sabrina had forgotten about the condition of her nightdress. Feeling naked and exposed before them all, she opened her mouth to explain, but before she could speak, Angus rose to his feet, weaving dangerously.
    “Ah, this must be the bonny Sabrina! Word o’ yer beauty has spread to the farthest reaches o’ the Highlands.” Even in his drunken state he managed to leer at her mother and wink at his men at the same time. “If me Beth had been blessed with better taste in husbands, ye might have been me own daughter.”
    His men burst into lusty laughter. Sabrina’s father nodded, his good-natured smile strained. She felt a painful blush creep up her throat. Scowling even morefiercely, Morgan began to tug at the bodkin holding his plaid pinned as if he had every intention of whipping it off his own naked form and wrapping it around her.
    “To Sabrina!” Angus bellowed. “The tenderest bud of my fair Beth!”
    The men cheered wildly as their chieftain hefted his goblet in a mighty toast before pitching forward dead in his plate, the jeweled hilt of a dagger protruding from between his bony shoulder blades.

Chapter Three
    Morgan’s roar of anguish shook the rafters, drowning out everything but Sabrina’s shrill scream.
    Dougal Cameron shoved his wife down the nearest corridor to safety, then bent to cradle Angus’s body. He lifted his hands, staring at his fingers as if bewildered to find them stained with blood. The MacDonnells fumbled for their scabbards and reached into their plaids, only to have their hands return empty.
    Morgan had seen too many dead men fall to waste time coddling his father’s corpse. His wide-eyed gaze lit on Sabrina. Alex and Brian reached for his arms, but he flung them away as if they were no more than puppies nipping at his heels and bounded over the table. Everyone thought he was diving for the pile of weapons.
    Everyone but Sabrina. She had seen the murderous flare of accusation in his eyes. She knew what he believed as surely as if he had shouted it. That she hadbeen a lure, a distraction to draw his attention from his father’s impending assassination.
    She was mesmerized by his charging approach. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. No time to beg for mercy. If he had snatched up his ax in that moment and swung it, her feet would have remained rooted to the stone long after her head had flown.
    His arm circled her waist. He jerked her against him and turned them both to face the hall. Sabrina felt his hand dip into his plaid, reaching for a pistol he’d surrendered to her only minutes before. Bereft of any other weapon, his big hand closed over her jaw, tilting her face upward to show them all that the slightest twitch of his fingers would break her neck.
    A strange calm flowed through her. Even hanging helpless in Morgan’s grip, her weight braced against his splayed thighs, she knew she would bear no bruises from his touch. His hands were almost gentle, their violence restrained by a ruthless competence more terrifying than cruelty. She had little doubt that her death at his hands would be as brutally tender. One jerk of his blunt fingers and her life would wink out like a star at the approach of dawn.
    Every man in the hall, even Morgan’s clansmen, stood frozen with shock. Impotent fury glazed Brian’s eyes. Alex was breathing hard, his face flushed redder than his hair.
    “Your