Chapters (40)
- Cover
- 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
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Epilogue
- Dedication
- Excerpt from In Bed with a Highlander
- Other Books by This Author
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and nibbled as she contemplated the possibilities. She knew it was her duty to provide heirs for Caelen. ’Twas a duty she owed her clan as well, to provide them with the next laird.
But ’twas God’s truth, she wasn’t sure she was up to the task quite yet.
It wouldn’t cause her distress if ’twas a little while longer before her womb bore fruit.
CHAPTER 20
Chapter 21
Rionna was fair to falling over by the time Caelen sought their chamber. She’d sat by the fire yawning for the past hour, waiting for him to come to bed.
When he opened the door and stepped inside, he looked surprised to see her. Then a faint frown drew his brows together.
“You shouldn’t have waited up for me. ’Tis late and you have need of your rest.”
It would have been a thoughtful statement if he hadn’t accentuated it with that frown.
Ignoring his gruffness, she rose and went to help him undress. He went still as she unlaced the leather ties of his trews. So still that she wasn’t sure he was even breathing.
When her fingers brushed his firm belly, he flinched. She was sorely tempted to run her palm up his midriff to his chest, but she was going to properly attend him first.
She guided him toward the chair she’d vacated by the fire and urged him down. He watched through half-lidded eyes as she tugged at his tunic and then pulled it over his head, baring his broad, hair-roughened chest.
She sucked in her breath. The man was beautiful. Never had she seen his equal. She fingered a puckered scar across his right shoulder and slid her hand lower to a much older, nearly flat scar on his left flank. She frowned as she studied it. ’Twas a knife wound.
“Someone stabbed you from behind,” she mused as she knelt to give it a closer look.
He stiffened, his muscles coiling and going rigid. His profile was set in stone as he stared into the fire.
“Aye.”
She waited but he offered nothing more.
“Who did this?”
“No one of import.”
She leaned forward and kissed the scar. He reacted in surprise, turning, his arm raised so he didn’t elbow her in the head. Then he lowered his hand to her hair and stroked his fingers through the strands.
He ran his fingers over her jaw and then cupped her chin, tilting it so that she looked up at him. A teasing glint twinkled in his green eyes.