Read Online Kilts and Daggers by Victoria Roberts - Free Book Online Page A

ye.”
    â€œThank you.” She handed Fagan the reins, spun on her heel, and was gone before he could say another word.
    * * *
    Grace stood in the middle of the field of heather, the skies lovely shades of purple, orange, and yellow. She needed a moment away from Fagan. How could the man know Elizabeth pined after Laird Munro? Was it that apparent? She caught herself glancing uneasily over her shoulder. Fagan had tied off the mounts and was walking toward her. She had a sneaking suspicion he was going to question her further and was uncomfortable with his ability to uncover her thoughts.
    â€œFor someone who hates the Highlands as much as ye do, ye seem to enjoy yourself.”
    â€œOh, I do not hate the Highlands, Mister Murray. The people are rather questionable, but the lands are very beautiful.”
    â€œIs it true then? Is Lady Elizabeth trying to shackle Ian?”
    Even though he spoke the truth, Grace wasn’t daft enough to admit it. Girding herself with resolve, she kept her voice firm and final. “My sister is only fifteen. Why would she need to shackle anyone? Besides, she is beautiful and smart. She can have any man she desires. Why would she want someone like Laird Munro when there are plenty of English lords for her choosing?”
    â€œI donna know, lass. ’Tis why I asked ye.”
    Grace straightened herself with dignity and smoothed her skirts. “Understand this… Elizabeth is a Walsingham, and we Walsinghams chase no man.”
    â€œAye, well, I’ll be sure to tell that to Torquil the next time I see him.”
    â€œWe should return before the sun sets.” Grace stepped around the wall that was Fagan. She started to walk back to the horses without him when a hand snaked around her waist. Suddenly, she found herself facing a very broad chest.
    â€œThe sun will nae set for another hour.”
    â€œWhat is it you want from me, and why do you insist on plaguing me at every turn?”
    He boldly met her eyes. “Why is it ye always walk away from me when ye donna like what I have to say?”
    She lifted a brow. “Pardon?”
    â€œDonna be coy with me. Ye understand my words.”
    She huffed. “I don’t like you, Mister Murray.”
    â€œSo ye’ve said many times before, bhana-phrionnsa .”
    She gave him a hostile glare and clenched her teeth. “Will you quit calling me that?”
    â€œWhy? What are ye going to do? Punch me in the face again?” His expression was tight with strain, and he stood so close that she could feel his breath on her face.
    â€œYou are nothing but an arrogant, beastly excuse for a man and—”
    Her last words were smothered because Fagan’s mouth covered hers with a savage intensity that startled her. The punishment of his lips on hers made her knees tremble. Her emotions whirled and skidded. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. Her wild-beating heart was the only sound audible.
    Oh, bloody hell.
    Grace couldn’t miss the musky smell of him as he pulled her closer. His hands locked against her ribs like steel bindings. She tried not to think about how hard and warm his body was against hers. When she felt blood surge from her fingertips the whole way to her toes, she knew this had to be a sin to feel so good.
    His mouth did not become softer as he kissed her. His kiss was punishing, angry. He forced her lips open with his thrusting tongue, and she’d never felt more alive. She lifted her arms around his neck, and his long hair brushed her cheek. She could swear she felt the fierce pounding of his heart against hers, and she suddenly became deeply conscious of the heavy rise and fall of her chest against his.
    God help her. She willingly complied. She knew she should deter his advances, but the passion between them consumed all thought. She returned his kiss with growing confidence, matching the thrust and parry of his tongue. What was wrong with her? She