Highlander 01-08 by Karen Marie Moning

Author:Karen Marie Moning [Moning, Karen Marie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 19

Chaos had stormed his castle, dressed in lusciously low-cut gowns, silky slippers, and ribbons, Drustan brooded, raking his hair back and tying it with a leather thong.

None of his fortress's defenses were useful against her, unless he wished to declare open warfare, mount up the guards, and dust off the catapult.

At which point, of course, his da and Nell would laugh themselves silly.

He'd been avoiding her since the day he'd taken her to Balanoch.

The next time he touched her, he'd tup her. He knew that. He fisted his hands at his sides, inhaling sharply.

His only recourse was to avoid her completely until Dageus returned with Anya. When Dageus confirmed that no such battle had occurred, he would have her removed from his castle and sent far away.

How far will be far enough? a most unwelcome voice asked. He knew that voice well. It was the one that endeavored daily to convince him that he had every right to take her to his bed.

A most dangerous, frighteningly persuasive voice.

He groaned and closed his eyes. He enjoyed a blissful moment's respite, until her laughter, lifted by the buoyant summer breeze, soared through the open window of his chamber.

Eyes narrowed, he peered out, both dreading and anticipating what gown she might have donned today. Would it be purple, violet, indigo, lavender? It was almost as if she knew of his preference for the vibrant color. And with her golden hair, she looked splendid in it.

This morn she wore sheer mauve with a golden girdle. No surcoat, in deference to the sunny weather. Succulent, creamy breasts rose from the simple scooped neck. She'd piled her blond tresses atop her head and, threaded with violet ribbons, it tumbled in delightful disarray about her face. She sauntered across his lawn, as if all his estate belonged to her.

For the past week she'd been everywhere he'd wanted to be, driving him to seek seclusion wherever it could be found. He'd ducked into chambers in the castle he'd forgotten even existed.

She hadn't bothered to be subtle about it. The moment she saw him, she chased about after him wearing a ferocious scowl, jabbering away about "things" she had to tell him.

Daily her tactics grew more sly and underhanded. Last night the audacious wench had picked the lock to his chamber! Because he'd had the foresight to barricade the door with a heavy armoire, she'd then gone to his door in the corridor and picked that lock. He'd been forced to escape out the window. Halfway down he'd slipped, crashed the last fifteen feet to the ground, and landed in a prickly bush. Since he'd not had time to don his trews, his manly parts had taken the brunt of his abrupt entry into the bush, putting him in a foul mood indeed.

The wench sought to unman him before his long-anticipated wedding night.

His every movement, every thought, every decision was being directly affected by her presence, and he resented it.

Her finger was even in the food

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