Confession. I love a book with a man wearing a kilt on the cover. There's something wild and untamable about the idea of the Scottish Highlands. It cries out; Adventure! Romance! The very siren call of the best of romances.
"Knight of the Highlander"
Colin's loyalty is to the English Crown. When sent into the Highlands to spy on the clans and report any Jacobite sympathizers, he takes on a new identity, the clan Chattan Blacksmith. He expected his duplicity would be difficult, he expected to risk his life. But he never expected to fall in love; especially with the traitorous Chattan Laird's daughter. When his cover is blown he has two choices; leave and survive, or fight for a chance at love.
Excerpt from "Knight of the Highlander" All rights reserved.
“As I see it, either way you have no reason to believe me. What have I done to earn your loyalty or trust?” His voice whispered lowly as he walked closer to where she stood. “Aside from your ill-fated attempt at adventure last night and my heroic rescue, that is.” He added after a moment’s pause. A slight lilt to his voice sounded jovial, but also hinted at a Scottish brogue. That was interesting. But of course if he were the traitor, he would need to blend in. The thought brought a sickening burn to her stomach.
“Aye, ye are right.”
“I love hearing those words from a woman.” His tone was teasing, but Arywnn was not amused.
“Well savor them sweet, because that’ll be the last time the likes of ye hears them from me.” She spoke a little too loudly, and covered her mouth with her hand.
“Temper, temper. I only intended to tease, sweet Arywnn.”
A few feet closer, and he would be able to reach out and touch her. Why wasn’t she afraid? After all, she didn’t know him, not truly. He had all but admitted to being the traitor of her clan, yet she couldn’t find it within herself to move away as he continued his careful approach.
She struggled to find any detail that would hint at his assumed identity, but none were visible in the silver moonlight. A part of her heart rejoiced that she was able to pretend he wasn’t the threat, but no sooner had she thought it did she realize that his freedom meant her prison. For if someone else discovered him, then she would have no hope at all. With new resolve she found her voice.
“No closer.” She used a warning tone. When his approach halted, she found herself both thankful and disappointed. The moment she reached up to remove her dagger she found herself pinned to the tree.
“I wouldn’t suggest doing something foolish like that.” The Englishman whispered into her ear as he held her fast against the trunk. His hands gripped her wrists and wrenched the dagger from her hand without causing her any pain.
“I will not hurt you milady, but I will not allow you to harm me either.” His tone held no room for argument. With a resigned sigh, Arywnn gave up her struggle. He wasn’t harming her, simply preventing her from harming him.
She gazed up into his dark face, studying it intently. He held her firm, yet waited as if allowing her perusal. She glanced down and expelled a silent breath that swirled in a foggy cloud before disappearing.
“I must admit that you caught me off guard, love. Imagine my surprise, in thinking I was going to steal another kiss, that I find you intending to harm me instead.” He tsked his tongue and leaned in closer, ticking the sensitive flesh just below her ear as with his breath as he spoke. “Sweet Arywnn has a wicked bite.” He murmured.