Confession. I love a book with a man wearing a kilt on the cover. There's something wild and untamable about the idea of the Scottish Highlands. It cries out; Adventure! Romance! The very siren call of the best of romances.
"Knight of the Highlander"
Colin's loyalty is to the English Crown. When sent into the Highlands to spy on the clans and report any Jacobite sympathizers, he takes on a new identity, the clan Chattan Blacksmith. He expected his duplicity would be difficult, he expected to risk his life. But he never expected to fall in love; especially with the traitorous Chattan Laird's daughter. When his cover is blown he has two choices; leave and survive, or fight for a chance at love.
Excerpt from "Knight of the Highlander" All rights reserved.
“As I see it, either way you have no reason to
believe me. What have I done to earn
your loyalty or trust?” His voice whispered lowly as he walked closer to where
she stood. “Aside from your ill-fated attempt at adventure last night and my
heroic rescue, that is.” He added after a moment’s pause. A slight lilt to his voice sounded jovial, but also hinted at a Scottish brogue. That was interesting. But of course if he
were the traitor, he would need to blend in.
The thought brought a sickening burn to her stomach.
“Aye, ye are right.”
“I love hearing those words from a woman.” His
tone was teasing, but Arywnn was not amused.
“Well savor them sweet,
because that’ll be the last time the likes of ye hears them from me.” She spoke
a little too loudly, and covered her mouth
with her hand.
“Temper, temper.
I only intended to tease, sweet Arywnn.”
A few feet closer,
and he would be able to reach out and touch her. Why wasn’t she afraid? After all, she didn’t know him, not truly. He
had all but admitted to being the traitor of her clan, yet she couldn’t find it
within herself to move away as he continued his careful approach.
She struggled to find any detail that would hint
at his assumed identity, but none were visible in the silver moonlight. A part
of her heart rejoiced that she was able to pretend he wasn’t the threat, but no
sooner had she thought it did she realize that his freedom meant her
prison. For if someone else discovered
him, then she would have no hope at all.
With new resolve she found her voice.
“No closer.” She used a warning tone. When his
approach halted, she found herself both thankful and disappointed. The moment she reached up to remove her
dagger she found herself pinned to the tree.
“I wouldn’t
suggest doing something foolish like that.” The Englishman whispered into her
ear as he held her fast against the trunk.
His hands gripped her wrists and wrenched the dagger from her hand
without causing her any pain.
“I will not hurt
you milady, but I will not allow you to harm me either.” His tone held no room
for argument. With a resigned sigh, Arywnn gave up her struggle. He wasn’t
harming her, simply preventing her from harming him.
She gazed up into
his dark face, studying it intently. He held her firm, yet waited as if
allowing her perusal. She glanced down and expelled a silent breath that
swirled in a foggy cloud before disappearing.
“I must admit
that you caught me off guard, love. Imagine my surprise, in thinking I was
going to steal another kiss, that I find you intending to harm me instead.” He
tsked his tongue and leaned in closer, ticking the sensitive flesh just below
her ear as with his breath as he spoke. “Sweet Arywnn has a wicked bite.” He murmured.
