Read Online A Highlander’s Homecoming by Melissa Mayhue - Free Book Online Page A

doubted he was more than a score and two, if that. She was sure that with his dark hair and startling blue eyes, he would find many a woman who would be pleased with his offer. But she wasn’t many a woman.
    At the conclusion of her circuit Isa stopped and shook her head slowly before looking back toward her grandfather.
    “No. I’ll no be changing my mind. He willna do at all. I’ve no desire to take such a pitiful example of manhood to husband.”
    The air around her thickened, the taste of violence so intense it almost masked the warnings of movement.
    Isa pushed Jamie behind her as she whirled to face whatever came her way. She found the MacDowylt had closed the distance between them. He moved quickly, his fingers banding around her upper arm.
    “Dinna mistake my offer for flattery. I’ve no interest in you as a woman. I’d only take such as you to wife to seal the MacGahan lands.” He jerked her arm as he spoke, pulling her face close to his. “And I will have them for the debt I’m owed. Since yer laird refuses to sign them over, if you dinna agree to marry, our clans will go to war. Are you ready to sacrifice yer people? Because make no mistake, woman, if you dinna wed me, that’s exactly what will happen.”
    It had all occurred very quickly. Her senses, normally so sharp, were dulled by the smell and feel of so many people crowded around her.
    Her eyes fixed on those of the man who held her, his face so close to hers she could feel his breath hit her cheeks in short, sharp slaps. Her own breath came quickly now as she felt her control slipping.
    A crash of thunder so close it shook the building drowned out any words the MacDowylt was saying to her.
    Concentrate.
She had to maintain her tenuous grasp on her emotions.
    She retreated into her own mind, shutting out the noises coming from the table behind her. She focused on the pressure of his fingers digging into her flesh, on the red flush rising on his skin under the dark stubble of beard, on anything but how she felt about what he was saying. Anything that could keep the anger, the fear at bay.
    Anger, fear—both were strong emotions, but combined they would be too powerful for her to control effectively.
    She couldn’t break down here. Not in front of her grandfather. Not again. She wouldn’t allow that to happen.
    Withdrawn into herself as she was, she missed the warnings of another’s approach.
    The shimmer of steel jolted her back to her surroundings as it flashed into the narrow space between her and the man who held her.
    A sword tip poised over MacDowylt’s hand where it clutched her arm.
    “You asked the lady a question about her willingness to sacrifice.” The voice was low, deep, almost mesmerizing in its tenor.
    Isa’s gaze slid along the wickedly sharp weapon hovering so close to her body to the man who wielded it. He was magnificent, a perfect example of a warrior, his deep brown eyes hard and withdrawn. As he stared at the MacDowylt she had no doubt this man could dispatch them both in one swift move of his muscled arm without giving the action a second thought. How could she have missed one such as this when she’d entered the hall? Could he possibly be her grandfather’s man?
    The emotionless smile he aimed at the MacDowylt sent a shiver down her spine.
    “Now I have a similar question for you, MacDowylt. Are you ready to sacrifice yer hand? Because make no mistake, sir, if you dinna release the lady’s arm, that’s exactly what will happen.”
    The threat, a replay of the MacDowylt’s own words, seemed to take the man by surprise. His fingers flexed and loosened on her arm, but he didn’t let go.
    “I dinna ken who you are, stranger, but you’d be best served to leave this place. This is a matter between the MacGahan and meself, and no business of yers.” The reply sounded almost animal, more growl than words.
    “That’s where yer wrong, MacDowylt. Anything that concerns Isabella MacGahan is very much my