Read Online Once Upon A Highland Christmas by Sue-Ellen Welfonder - Free Book Online

Grim’s lips were almost upon hers. Already his beard grazed her cheek, its crisp-soft fullness cold and thrilling against her skin. Faith, she could scarce breathe with him so close, knowing what was about to happen. “You are going to, aren’t you? Kiss me, I mean.”
    “I must, though no’ as I’d like to.” He pulled back to look down at her for a long moment, his solemn gray gaze going so deep she was sure he’d brushed her soul. Then he bent his head and kissed her lightly, his chilled lips only whispering across hers.
    Before he straightened, he pressed a more firm kiss to the sensitive spot just beneath her ear, even nipping her skin. “I’ll no’ embarrass you more than necessary. You’ll see, the Munzies will have expected us to kiss, being the folk they are.”
    “The folk they are?” Breena could hardly speak. Her heart was beating fast and her breath quickened. She felt as flushed, and hot, as if she’d leapt feet first into one of Grim’s blazing Yule beacons.
    “Aye, just.” Grim stood back, reached to adjust the fall of his wolfskin cloak about her shoulders. “The Munzies are romantics, hopelessly so.”
    “What would the world be without our like, h’mmm?” An amused female voice came from behind them. “A sad place, indeed, I’m thinking!”
    “Flora, you look no’ a day older than when last I was here.” Grim turned to greet the handsome older woman, clearly the farmwife who claimed descent from the great MacKenzies of Kintail.
    Tall and well made, she had striking sapphire-blue eyes, the edges only slightly creased. She wore her raven-black hair in a thick, single braid that fell to her hips, and Breena couldn’t see a single gray strand to mar the inky tresses. Even in Ireland, she’d heard of the great beauty of MacKenzie women, so she wasn’t surprised.
    What impressed her more was the twinkle in Flora Munzie’s eye and her warm, generous smile.
    “And you, Sir Grim”—Flora tapped his arm with a lovely but work-reddened hand—“have brought a guest! Now that’s a rare delight.
    “He’s never done that before, my lady.” She turned to Breena, her kindness chasing any shame Breena might have felt at having been caught kissing in the woman’s stable yard. “You must be quite special to him.”
    “So she is, and I’ve brought her to meet you.” He took Breena’s elbow, drawing her forward. “May I introduce my betrothed, Lady Breena O’Doherty of Donegal,” he said, pride and something else, something indefinable, ringing in his voice. “I’ve told her much about you and Fergus.”
    “Have you now?” Flora beamed and extended her hands to Breena. “I’m pleased to hear you speak of more than warring and weapons. It is time you took a wife, Fergus and I were saying just the other night.”
    She released Breena to grip them both by the arm, leading them toward the farmhouse. “Indeed, your arrival this morn is surely a good omen. Love is in the air these days, it is. Come and see who is visiting: my cousin, Moira, and her new husband, Malcolm. Never have I seen a pair more in love.”
    Breena stopped, shooting a glance at Grim. “We mustn’t intrude then. In truth, we also hope to reach the MacGregor holding before nightfall, and—”
    “Oh, nae, you must stay the night here.” Flora was adamant. “Moira and Malcolm are so happy, they want to share their joy with everyone.
    “They were star-crossed lovers, see you?” Flora leaned in, lowering her voice. “Moira’s a MacKenzie of Kintail, as am I. In her youth, she fell in love with Malcolm, a proud MacDonald warrior. Their clans were feuding, quite fiercely, and Malcolm put family honor and duty above his heart, forsaking their love rather than cause more grief by claiming Moira for his own. As it happened”—she paused, glanced at the farmhouse’s open door—“a young MacLeod warrior kidnapped her when she was out berry picking one day, for we MacKenzies were aye at odds with that clan,