Ravished By A Highlander Part 26

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Seduced by a Highlander Available in ma.s.s market in Fall 2010.

Chapter One.

Arrogant imbecile!" Isobel Fergusson pushed through the heavy wooden doors and entered Whitehall Palace's enormous privy garden with a dozen venomous oaths spilling from her lips. Her brother Alex was going to get them all killed. Oh, why had they come to England? And d.a.m.nation, if they had to attend the Duke of York's coronation, it should be Patrick, her eldest brother and heir to their father, the late Fergusson chieftain, here with her and not Alex. They were only supposed to stay for a se'nnight or two, but when the future king invited all his guests to remain at Whitehall for another month, Alex had accepted. She kicked a small rock out of her path and swore again. How could she have raised such an imprudent, thoughtless bratling?

'Twasn't that Isobel was impervious to the lure of Whitehall's luxurious feathered mattresses, its grand galleries with vaulted ceilings where even the softest whispers, uttered by elegant lords and ladies powdered to look like living, breathing statues, echoed. 'Twas all quite... unusual and beguiling in a queer sort of way. But Alex had accepted knowing the MacGregors were here!

"Dear G.o.d," she beseeched, stopping at a large, stone sundial in the center of the garden, "give me strength and my witless brother wisdom before he starts another war!"

A movement to her right drew her attention to a row of tall bronze statues gleaming in the sun. When one of them moved, Isobel startled back and b.u.mped her hip against the sundial.

"Careful, la.s.s."

He wasn't a statue at all, but a man-though his face could have been crafted by the same artist who had created the masterpieces lining the garden. Isobel took in every inch of him as he stepped out from behind the golden likeness of an archangel, wings paused forever in flight as it landed on its pedestal. He wore the garb of an Englishman, but without all the finery... or the wig. His hair hung loose to his shoulders in shades of rich chestnut and sun-streaked gold. The ruffled collar of his cream-colored s.h.i.+rt hung open at his throat, giving him a more roguish appearance than a n.o.ble one. He was tall and lithe, with long, muscular legs encased in snug-fitting breeches and dull black boots. His steps were light but deliberate as he moved toward her.

"I didna' mean to startle ye." The musical pitch of his voice branded him Scottish, mayhap even a Highlander. "I thought ye were my sister."

His smile was utterly guileless, save for the flash of a playful dimple in one cheek, and as warm and inviting as the heavenly body perched behind him. For a moment that went completely out of her control, Isobel could not move as she took in the full measure of his striking countenance. Save for the slight bend at the bridge, his nose was cla.s.sically cut, residing above a mouth fas.h.i.+oned to strip a woman of all her defenses, including reasonable thought. The way his eyes changed from brown to simmering gold, like a hawk's that spotted its prey, hinted of something far more primitive beyond the boyish smile.

"I am infinitely grateful that I was mistaken."

Isobel took a step around the sundial, instinctively keeping her distance from a force that befuddled her logic and tightened her breath.

d.a.m.nation, she had to say something before he thought her exactly what she was-exactly what any other woman with two working eyes in her head was when they saw him-a doddering fool. With a tilt of her chin that suggested she was a fool for no man, she flicked her deep auburn braid over her shoulder and said, "Yer sister thinks ye are an arrogant imbecile, also?"

"Aye," he answered with a grin that was all innocence and innately seductive at the same time. "That, and much worse."

As if to prove his statement true, a movement beyond the statue caught Isobel's attention. She looked in time to spy a glimpse of sapphire blue skirts and flaxen curls rus.h.i.+ng back toward the palace.

"My guess," Isobel muttered, peering around his back to watch the lady's departure, "is that yer sister is likely correct."

"She most certainly is," he agreed, not bothering to look behind him. The cadence of his voice deepened with his smile. "But I'm no' completely irredeemable."

Rather than argue the point with such an obvious rogue when she should be thinking of a way to convince Alex to leave with her and Cam, Isobel quirked a dubious brow at him and turned to leave. "As difficult as that is to believe, I will have to take ye at yer word. Good day."

Her breath quickened an instant later when the stranger appeared at her side and leaned down toward her ear.

"Or ye could spend the afternoon with me and find oot fer yerself."

His nearness permeated the air around her with heat and the familiar scent of heather. He was definitely a Highlander, mayhap a Gordon or of the Donaldson clan, though he wore no plaid. She thought to ask his name, but decided against it. He might consider her interest in him an acceptance of his offer. She could not afford to allow her senses to be addled by a whole afternoon spent with him when her family's safety was at stake.

"Thank ye, m'lord, but I've matters to think on." She quickened her pace but he would not be so easily dismissed.

"Do these matters have to do with the witless brother ye were prayin' fer?"

"Why?" Isobel asked, trying to sound unaffected by his boldness to follow her. "Are ye worried he might have usurped yer t.i.tle?"

She was completely unprepared for his laughter, or for the way it rang through her veins, coa.r.s.e and carefree. A dozen other men would have scowled at her accusation, though she meant it only to show her disinterest, but this charismatic stranger found it humorous. She liked that he had enough confidence to laugh, even at himself.

"His name is Alex," she conceded with a smile and began to walk with him. "And truly, if there is a t.i.tle of witless brother, he has already taken it." She felt a tad bit guilty about speaking so of her brother with a man she didn't even know, but perhaps not knowing him made it easier. She needed someone to talk to about her dilemma. Someone to just listen and perhaps point her on the right path to take in order to get her brothers the h.e.l.l out of Whitehall the quickest way possible. This man seemed clever enough. Besides, he made her smile, and she hadn't done the like all morning.

Beside her, he bent to pick up a rock and threw it into a small pond a few feet ahead of them. "And what has Alex done that is so terrible?"

"He refuses to leave Whitehall and go home."

"Ah, unfergivable."

Isobel cut him a sidelong glance and found him smiling back at her. "Ye don't understand."

He raised a dark brow and waited for her to continue.

She looked around before she spoke again. "Our most hated enemies have recently arrived to pay homage to the king. Alex is c.o.c.ky and prideful. If we remain here, he is likely to insult them and bring the barbarians down on our heads once again."

He nodded, leading her around the pool. "Now I see yer point more clearly. But why is it yer strait to ponder?" he asked, turning to her. "Where is yer faither that his son should make decisions which put his kin in jeopardy?"

"He's dead," Isobel told him, her eyes going hard on the Palace doors and the beasts that strolled somewhere within. "Killed by these same enemies. I swear if I could get just one of them alone, I would slice open his throat and sing him back to the devil who sp.a.w.ned him."

She was a bit surprised to find both sympathy and amus.e.m.e.nt softening the man's features when she looked at him.

"It sounds to me like yer enemies have more to fear from ye, than ye do from them, la.s.s."

Isobel shook her head. "I am not foolhardy like Alex. I know that killing one of them would rekindle the feud. It has been ten years since they murdered my father. They have left us alone, and I wish it to stay that way."

"Wise," he said, and Isobel was glad she'd told him. He agreed that she was correct in wanting to leave. Perhaps he would be willing to talk some sense into Alex's ear.

"Alex thinks he is not afraid of them, but Oliver Cromwell himself shyt in his breeches at the mention of their name."

The handsome stranger paused in his steps for a moment, his smile fading as if something unpleasant had just crossed his thoughts. "Who are these unholy miscreants ye speak of?"

"The MacGregors," Isobel told him quietly, hating to even have to utter their names. "Do ye know them, then?" she asked when his eyes narrowed slightly on her.

As effortlessly as it had appeared the first time, his light smile returned. "I know of them."

"Aye," she sighed, looking forward along their path, "everyone does. They are the infamous and imperishable scourges of Scotland."

He did not laugh this time, but seemed to grow uncomfortable in his own clothes. Isobel guessed that he was afraid of the MacGregors too.

"Ye didna' tell me why they killed yer father."

Isobel didn't want to talk about it, or even think on it anymore, but if she could persuade this kind gentleman to dissuade her brother... "They believed my father killed the Earl of Argyll during a raid. The Earl was their kin, the Devil MacGregor's brother-in-law, I was told. Without proof that the Fergussons were even responsible, they murdered my father. The MacGregors are ruthless and cruel. If the Earl was anything like his relatives, he deserved his death."

She stopped walking when she realized her stranger had stopped a few paces behind her. She turned and for an instant, wasn't certain if he was the same man. He stared at her, but not like before. Now, she thought she saw anger slash across the deep amber of his eyes. All traces of anything charming had vanished from his face, leaving his jaw hard, his shapely mouth taut.

"Is something the matter?" Isobel asked him, not knowing what it could possibly be.

"Nae, 'tis nothin'. I just recalled that I promised my sister I would show her the king's theater and she'll never let me ferget it if I dinna' keep my word." His smile flashed and was gone an instant before he was.

Isobel stood in the garden a bit taken back by the abruptness of his departure. But as she watched him disappear into the Palace, she thought it rather thoughtful of him to care so much about keeping his word to his sister. She smiled. He wasn't anywhere near gaining the t.i.tle.

THE DISH.

Where authors give you the inside scoop!.

From the desk of Paula Quinn.

Dear Reader, While doing research for LAIRD OF THE MIST, I fell in love with Clan MacGregor. Their staunch resolve to overcome trials and countless tribulations during a three-hundred-year proscription earned them a very special place in my heart. So when I was given the chance to write a brand-new series featuring Callum and Kate MacGregor's grown children, I was ecstatic.

The first of my new four-book series, RAVISHED BY A HIGHLANDER (available now), stars Robert MacGregor, whom you met briefly in A HIGHLANDER NEVER SURRENDERS. He was a babe then, and things haven't changed. He's still a babe, but in an entirely different way!

My favorite type of hero is a rogue who can sweep a lady off her feet with a slant of his lips. Or a cool, unsmiling brute with a soft spot no one sees but his woman. Rob was neither of those men when I began writing his story. He was more. I didn't think I could love a character I created as much as I loved his father, but I was wrong, and I'm not ashamed to say it.

Rob isn't careless with women's hearts. His smile isn't reckless but a bit awkward. It's about the only thing he hasn't practiced every day of his life. Born to fill his father's boots as chief and protector of his clan, Rob takes life and the duties that come with his birthright seriously. He's uncompromising in his loyalty to his kin and unrelenting in his beliefs. He's a warrior who is confident in the skill of his arm, but not rash in drawing his sword. However, once it's out, someone's head is going to roll. Yes, he's tall and handsome, with dark curls and eyes the color of sunset against a summer-blue loch, but his beauty can best be seen in his devotion to those he loves.

He is... exactly what a lady needs in her life if an entire Dutch fleet is on her tail.

I'll tell you a little about Davina Montgomery, the la.s.s who not only softens Rob's staunch heart, but comes to claim it in her delicate fingers. But I won't tell you too much, because I don't want to reveal the secret that has taken everyone she's ever loved away from her. She came to me filled with sorrow, chained by duty, and in need of things so very basic, yet always beyond her reach: safety, and the love of someone who would never betray her or abandon her to danger.

I saw Rob through Davina's eyes the moment he plucked her from the flames of her burning abbey. A hero: capable, courageous, and hot as h.e.l.l.

We both knew Rob was perfect for her, and for the first time, I saw hope in Davina's eyes-and her beauty can best be seen when she looks at him.

Travel back to the Scottish Highlands with Rob and Davina and discover what happens when duty and desire collide. And I love to hear from readers, so please visit me at www.paulaquinn.com.

Enjoy!.

From the desk of R. C. Ryan.

Dear Reader, Are you as intrigued by family dynamics as I am? I know that, having written a number of family sagas, I've been forced to confront a lot of family drama. But fiction mirrors real life. And in the real world, there's nothing more complicated or more dramatic than our individual relations.h.i.+ps with the different members of our families.

We read a lot about motheradaughter and fatherason relations.h.i.+ps, not to mention sibling rivalry. Psychologists tell us life paths are often determined by birth order. And yet there are always exceptions to the rule-the child of poverty who builds a financial empire. The man with a learning disability who lifts himself to the ranks of genius. The girl who loses a leg and goes on to run marathons.

And so, while I'm fascinated with family dynamics, and our so-called place in the universe, I'm even more intrigued by those who refuse to fit into any mold. Instead, by the sheer force of their determination, they rise above society's rules to become something rare and wonderful. Whether they climb Mount Everest or never leave the neighborhood where they were born, they live each day to the fullest. And whether they change the world or just change one life, they defy the experts and prove wrong those who believe a life's course is predetermined.

In MONTANA DESTINY, the second book in my Fool's Gold series, Wyatt McCord returns to the Lost Nugget Ranch after years of living life on the edge, only to lose his heart to the fiercely independent Marilee Trainor, a loner who has broken a few rules of her own. These two, who searched the world over for a place to belong, will laugh, love, and fight often, while being forced to dig deep within themselves to survive.

I hope you enjoy watching Wyatt and Marilee take charge of their lives and forge their own destinies.

www.ryanlangan.com.

From the desk of Robin Wells.

Dear Reader, "So, Robin-what's your latest book about?"

I get that question a lot, and I always find it difficult to answer. I usually start off by describing the plot in varying degrees of detail. Here's the short version: STILL THE ONE is the story of Katie Charmaine, a hairdresser in Chartreuse, Louisiana-the same colorful small town where my previous book, BETWEEN THE SHEETS, took place. Katie lost her husband in Iraq, and she thinks she'll never love again. But when her first love, Zack Ferguson, returns, she feels the same irresistible attraction that stole her heart at seventeen. To Katie's shock, he's accompanied by the teenage daughter Katie gave up for adoption at birth. The daughter, Gracie, has a major att.i.tude, a smart mouth-and is now pregnant herself.

The medium-length version adds: Gracie's adoptive parents were killed in a car accident, and when she discovers her birth parents' ident.i.ties, she locates Zack first. She wants him to declare her an emanc.i.p.ated minor and give her a nice wad of cash. Instead, Zack takes Gracie to Chartreuse, where he and Katie share custody until Gracie turns eighteen.

The long version gives still more detail: Zack and Katie experience the ups and downs of parenting a difficult teenager, while rediscovering the love that initially drew them together. Can they forgive each other for their past mistakes? Can Zack overcome his commitment-phobic ways? Can Katie get beyond her feelings of disloyalty to her late husband and her fear of opening her heart again? Can Gracie let go of her anger and open her heart to Katie?

The long version still doesn't fully cover everything that happens, but then, a book is much more than a plot. So I also answer the "what's your book about?" question by citing the following themes present in STILL THE ONE: Romance. There's nothing like the heady feeling of falling in love, and nothing worse than believing you're falling alone.

Family. This book is about some of the ways that families shape us, for better and for worse.

Grief. Love doesn't die, even though people do. How do we get past the feeling that loving someone else is disloyal to the deceased? How do we ever find the courage to care that deeply again, knowing how much it hurts to lose someone you love?

Mistakes. Teenagers aren't known for making wise choices, but adults don't always make the best decisions, either. Regardless of age, we all can get lost in the moment, make incorrect a.s.sumptions, repeat a destructive pattern, or neglect to say something that needs to be said.

Blessings. Sometimes mistakes that have haunted us for years can turn out to be life's biggest blessings.

Forgiveness. How do we let go of hurts-especially big, bad ones? Once we've been hurt by someone, can we ever fully trust that person again?

And last but not least, Love. If I had to give a single answer to what my book is about, this would be it. I believe that love has the power to heal and redeem and transform anyone and any situation, no matter how hopeless it may seem, and that's the major underlying theme of this novel-and all my novels, come to think of it. I hope you'll drop by my website, www.robinwells.com, to see a short video about the book, read an excerpt from my next novel, and/or let me know your thoughts. I love to hear from readers, and I can be reached at my website or at P.O. Box 303, Mandeville, LA 70470.

Here's hoping your life will be filled with love, laughter, and lots of good books!.

ALSO BY PAULA QUINN.