Contents ( 34)
- Desired by a Highlander
- Donna Fletcher
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- About the Author
- Also by Donna Fletcher
- Also by Donna Fletcher
His men went to go at Slatter and he shook his head. “You truly wish to embarrass him even more, by all of you coming to his defense against a man he should have been able to defend himself against.”
“Stay!” Rhodes shouted, weak as the shout was, still lying flat on his back in the snow.
His men backed away.
“A reminder,” Slatter said, standing over the fallen man. “Lay your hands on my wife again and I will kill you.”
He turned his back on Rhodes, an action that made it clear he did not fear the man, and joined his wife at the door, reaching past her to open it and with a gentle hand to her back entered the cottage with her.
Willow went immediately to Sara. Thankfully, she was sleeping peacefully and a tender touch to her brow told Willow that the fever hadn’t returned. She turned to her husband, standing directly behind her, worry in his dark eyes. “She does well.”
His worry faded as he settled his hands on her waist. “And you? Do you do well?”
Her response surprised her. “When you’re with me, I always do well.”
His teasing grin surfaced. “I do always seem to be rescuing you.”
When he had heard her yell as he was returning to the cottage, fear twisted at his heart and gut, feeling as if they’d be ripped out of him. And when he had seen how Rhodes had hold of his wife, dragging her in the snow, he was ready to kill the man. He was still trying to temper his anger so he wouldn’t go out there and run a dagger through him.
He didn’t like that she wasn’t smiling in return.
“But will I be able to rescue you?” she asked, more of herself than her husband, and the thought made her shiver.
“You’re cold. Come by the fire,” he said, easing her over to the hearth, moving a chair in front of it, sitting, and taking her in his lap as he did.
Willow rested her head on his shoulder. “You know what this means, don’t you?” She raised her head to look at him.
“That we remain husband and wife or chance the Lord of Fire taking me prisoner once again.” He ran his finger along her chin. “I’m not good for you, mo ghaol.”
She didn’t think that at all true, but kept that to herself. “Perhaps, but do we have a choice? And what of your grandmother? She would fare much better at my home than here. She could ride with you. You would keep her warm and safe.”
She could see he was giving it thought, though she wondered if it was his grandmother’s well-being that swayed him to consider it.
“And where would you ride?” he asked.
She hadn’t thought he’d ask that, but she was quick to say, “With William.” Her answer seemed to appease him.
“Is my grandmother strong enough to make the two-day journey?”