He stole her away… But she set him free…
They called him The Priest. Maybe because of his billowing black robes and the steel crucifix that hung around his neck. Or perhaps it was because those who met him were compelled to pray. But Duncan Mackay was anything but a saint. He was a sinner—a paid mercenary. Until he met her, and she made him want to change his ways.
Lady Heather Sutherland, has never been compelled to follow rules. And this time, she’s gone too far. Following in the footsteps of her brothers and cousins, she chooses to join the fight for Scottish freedom—and gets herself abducted by a handsome, rogue warrior, whose touch is sweet sin.
Duncan’s duty was clear—steal Heather away from Dunrobin Castle. What he didn’t expect, was to be charmed by her spirit and rocked by her fiery kiss. Now, he doesn’t want deliver her to those who hired him, instead he wants to keep her all to himself.
A fun excerpt...
“Hold on to my back,” he instructed, turning around and glancing at her over his shoulder. “Wrap your legs around my waist and your arms around my neck.”
She gave him an incredulous look, which he ignored. Turning back toward the wall, he tested the rope he’d used to climb down. Still secure. Good.
“What?”she whispered harshly. “Ye canna possibly—”
He cut her off, flicked her another annoyed gaze over his shoulder. “I assure ye,’tis possible, and I do intend to.” Duncan again presented her with his back.“Grab hold. Now.”
Heather didn’t hesitate, thank goodness, but touched her hands to his shoulders and jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist and a death grip around his neck. Duncan swallowed and tugged at her arms. If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought she was trying to kill him.
“Not so tight, else I lose my breath and we both fall.”
Heather loosened her grip on his neck, but tightened her thighs around his hips. Duncan had to force himself not to groan. The lass had yanked up her skirts a little to allow enough flexibility in her clothing to grip him. A smooth calf brushed his elbow.
Mo chreach…he might just drop her. It had been much better when he’d imagined her legs to be as burly as his own.
“Where are the guards?” she asked.
“Gone.”He didn’t expound but began to climb.
Hand over hand, feet gripping the rope. He pulled them up at a steady pace, his muscles working with the added weight. Sweat trickled over his back, his arms. His palms grew damp but didn’t hinder his progress. Heather clung tight to him. Whispered prayers, begged forgiveness for her sins, and wished not to die. Duncan held in his laughter, and at last they reached the ledge.
“Let go of my neck and pull yourself up onto the top.” Pushing off the wall gently with his foot, he twisted his body around so Heather’s back was against the stone.
“I dinna know if I can.” Fear ebbed around the edges of her words.
“Aye, lass, ye can,” Duncan spoke with knowing authority. “Go on. Do it now.”
Heather blew out a breath, warm against his neck, then let go with one hand.
“That’s it, Heather. Grip the wall.” Letting go of the rope with one hand, he slid it under her thigh—gritting his teeth at the suppleness of her flesh. He didn’t know which was more painful—holding up their weight on the rope with a single hand or touching the softness of her thigh. “I’ve got hold of ye. Ye can do it.”
She seemed to gain some measure of safety from his grip on her thigh and took off her other hand, hoisting herself up onto the wall walk of the battlements.
Duncan made quick work of hoisting himself onto the stone floor and pulling up his rope. The sun was quickly rising. It wouldn’t be long before guards came to relieve those Duncan had dispatched of. He tied off the rope on a crenellation, preparing for them to go down the other side.
“Get on.” He crouched down, and Heather climbed onto his back again.
“Do ye make it a habit of having women ride ye?” she asked.
Duncan choked on his tongue. Holy Mother, did she realize what she’d just asked? With a wicked grin, he turned to glance over his shoulder. “Aye, lass, as often as I can.”
Even in the dusky morning, he could see her face color red as a berry. Just to make her glow redder, he winked, satisfied when she let out a little gasp.
After making sure that the area below the wall was clear, he gripped the rope tight and climbed over the side. With measured movements, he walked them down the wall. The climb down was always easier than up. Once they were on solid ground, Heather dropped to her feet. He turned to see her smoothing out her skirts.
“Dinna be modest on my account, I’ve had your legs wrapped around me, your bare thigh under my fingers.”
She let out an outraged snarl. “Only because if ye didna, I’d have ended up dead.”
He snickered. “’Haps. Or maybe I just wanted the privilege.”
“Ye’re a brute.”
Duncan bowed low. “I thank ye.”
“’Twas not a compliment.”
Praise for The Stolen Bride Series…
“For fans of Highlander romance, this series is a must read!” ~Night Owl Romance
The Highlander’s Reward– winner of InD’Tale Magazine’s Best Historical Novel 2012
The Highlander’s Reward– “The powerful yet sensitive Magnus and the saucy and beautiful Arbella are a winning pair in this Scottish themed romance that even boasts cameos from William Wallace himself.” ~Publisher’s Weekly Reviewer for the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Contest
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