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Book: The Highlander's Stolen heart (Macinnes Sisters Trilogy) by Donna Fletcher
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Authors: Donna Fletcher
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are well-trained warriors who can suffer a blow from a sword just like any warrior,” he insisted. “I am sure the Dark Dragon is pleased with the mythical tales told about him. It makes people fear him more when in all actuality he is nothing more than a man like myself.”
“A potent warrior who wields a sword with confidence and not an ounce of fear,” Emma said. “Yes, why should anyone fear such mighty warriors?”
He was more than confident when it came to wielding his sword, at least that’s what the willing lassie he had tumbled last had told him. And he had no doubt he would have Emma feeling the same. Hell and damnation . Exactly what he would suffer if he did not stop thinking about Emma this way. How many times did he have to remind himself that she was not his intended? He had no right having such carnal thoughts about her. And where had this attraction come from and why was it growing ever stronger?
“Something concerns you?” Emma said.
Rogan shook his head to clear it and when he turned to her, he saw that her hand rested on his shoulder. Her concerned touch shot heat straight to his groin, hardening him in an instant. His nostrils flared, his lips tightened, and his eyes narrowed in anger at his uncontrollable response to her touch.
Emma quickly withdrew her hand when she saw how annoyed he had gotten at where her hand rested. Whatever was the matter with her, touching him as if she had the right to? She had never laid a hand on a man with such familiarity. She had never felt at ease to do so, not after the one and only time she had done it. The consequences that had followed had hurt and taught her never to do it again. And she had not. But now... now she laid her hand on Rogan without thought or consequences and that was not good. Especially since every time she did, her body sparked to life. It was as if something long dormant was awakened, and she so badly wanted to shake it fully awake.
“Everything concerns me,” Rogan finally answered, especially his damn hard arousal that had him shifting uncomfortable on his horse. “Though at the moment, I would say those dark clouds in the distance take priority.”
Emma glanced and shook her head when she saw the clouds that seemed to grow darker and larger before her eyes. “A storm.”
“And a good one at that.”
“A heavy rain will wash away what few tracks are left from the last rain,” Emma said, feeling a sense of defeat settle over her. Your wits, Emma, your wits. Her sister’s scolding voice in her head had her asking, “Are there some crofts in the area? Perhaps someone has seen something that may help us.”
“There are some, but not on the path we travel.” Rogan’s brow knitted. “Perhaps we travel the wrong path.”
Emma thought to follow him as he rode off without a word to her, but then thought better of it. She had wondered herself if perhaps they had missed something along the way. The one thing that bothered her was that they had not met up with any injured Macinnes warriors. How had Patience’s troop avoided being attacked? She did not want to think of a more logical answer. That Patience and her troop had been captured. Patience was too skilled to allow that to happen.
Please, Lord, let it be so. Let both my sisters be safe.
As soon as she saw that they were changing course, she realized what Rogan was doing. He was taking them to where there was not just endless woods or barren land, but to crofts where people may have seen something. She prayed his decision was right.
It was a couple of hours later when the sky looked about to dump a torrent of rain upon them that they crested a small hill and spotted a farm, smoke billowing from the chimney. There was a cottage and two outbuildings and empty lean-tos that could shelter the horses.
Welcomed or not, Emma did not think they would be turned away. The occupants would most likely be too fearful of being inhospitable to a small troop of warriors and bid them
“A potent warrior who wields a sword with confidence and not an ounce of fear,” Emma said. “Yes, why should anyone fear such mighty warriors?”
He was more than confident when it came to wielding his sword, at least that’s what the willing lassie he had tumbled last had told him. And he had no doubt he would have Emma feeling the same. Hell and damnation . Exactly what he would suffer if he did not stop thinking about Emma this way. How many times did he have to remind himself that she was not his intended? He had no right having such carnal thoughts about her. And where had this attraction come from and why was it growing ever stronger?
“Something concerns you?” Emma said.
Rogan shook his head to clear it and when he turned to her, he saw that her hand rested on his shoulder. Her concerned touch shot heat straight to his groin, hardening him in an instant. His nostrils flared, his lips tightened, and his eyes narrowed in anger at his uncontrollable response to her touch.
Emma quickly withdrew her hand when she saw how annoyed he had gotten at where her hand rested. Whatever was the matter with her, touching him as if she had the right to? She had never laid a hand on a man with such familiarity. She had never felt at ease to do so, not after the one and only time she had done it. The consequences that had followed had hurt and taught her never to do it again. And she had not. But now... now she laid her hand on Rogan without thought or consequences and that was not good. Especially since every time she did, her body sparked to life. It was as if something long dormant was awakened, and she so badly wanted to shake it fully awake.
“Everything concerns me,” Rogan finally answered, especially his damn hard arousal that had him shifting uncomfortable on his horse. “Though at the moment, I would say those dark clouds in the distance take priority.”
Emma glanced and shook her head when she saw the clouds that seemed to grow darker and larger before her eyes. “A storm.”
“And a good one at that.”
“A heavy rain will wash away what few tracks are left from the last rain,” Emma said, feeling a sense of defeat settle over her. Your wits, Emma, your wits. Her sister’s scolding voice in her head had her asking, “Are there some crofts in the area? Perhaps someone has seen something that may help us.”
“There are some, but not on the path we travel.” Rogan’s brow knitted. “Perhaps we travel the wrong path.”
Emma thought to follow him as he rode off without a word to her, but then thought better of it. She had wondered herself if perhaps they had missed something along the way. The one thing that bothered her was that they had not met up with any injured Macinnes warriors. How had Patience’s troop avoided being attacked? She did not want to think of a more logical answer. That Patience and her troop had been captured. Patience was too skilled to allow that to happen.
Please, Lord, let it be so. Let both my sisters be safe.
As soon as she saw that they were changing course, she realized what Rogan was doing. He was taking them to where there was not just endless woods or barren land, but to crofts where people may have seen something. She prayed his decision was right.
It was a couple of hours later when the sky looked about to dump a torrent of rain upon them that they crested a small hill and spotted a farm, smoke billowing from the chimney. There was a cottage and two outbuildings and empty lean-tos that could shelter the horses.
Welcomed or not, Emma did not think they would be turned away. The occupants would most likely be too fearful of being inhospitable to a small troop of warriors and bid them
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