Seduction of a Highland Warrior by Sue-Ellen Welfonder & Allie Mackay

Author:Sue-Ellen Welfonder & Allie Mackay [Welfonder, Sue-Ellen & Mackay, Allie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gruenwald Corporation
Published: 2020-01-04T05:00:00+00:00

As if the fates agreed, the voices of strangers came from the mist curling round Alasdair’s home on its rocky islet in the southernmost corner of the glen. Low and guarded, the grumbles would’ve been the men’s death knells if Alasdair had heard them. Truth be told, fury would’ve boiled the blood of any warrior of the glen.

But the speakers apparently didn’t know the dark sea winds of Blackshore drifted far. Or that even mist sometimes had ears. They only knew their greed. And the burning lust that some men can’t control…

“I could’ve done with some fine, womanly heat.” Troll, a huge, one-eyed Norseman groused as he pulled the oars of a small, black-sided coracle. His war-scarred face darkened as he cast a look over his shoulder to where the waters of Loch Moidart broke on the curving strand at the far end of Blackshore Castle’s causeway.

The woman he’d spotted at the loch’s edge had slipped into the shadows.

He frowned, annoyed that his companion, Bors, hadn’t been willing to beach the coracle. “We could’ve had her and been away before she could even scream.”

Bors didn’t answer him.

Troll didn’t care. He did peer across the loch again, trying to see where the woman had gone.

It’d been too long since he’d aired the skirts of such a beauty.

Even through the mist, he’d recognized her worth.

She’d practically glowed.

Wanting her badly, he turned back to the other man in the coracle. Bors puzzled him. Big, brutish, and just hot-blooded as he was, Bors wasn’t a man to pass on the chance of a good tumble.

Yet he had, arguing that Troll’s goings-on about the woman would be heard by the guardsmen on Blackshore’s battlements. He didn’t want to alert them of their presence. Troll tamped down a bark of laughter.

As if the MacDonald guards had such sharp ears.

Morelike, Bors was worried about angering their leader, Ivar Ironstorm.

Ivar frowned on dallying unless he’d given his men leave to enjoy such pleasures. Most times he concerned him only with gaining land and gold. Slaves he could trade or sell. Women, when they brought an advantage.

“We could’ve caught her, there on the shore.” Troll gripped the oars tighter, his arm muscles bulging. “We should turn back, look for her.”

Bors snorted. “Your good eye is going as blind as the missing one.” Leaning forward, he fixed Troll with a narrow-eyed stare. “There was no woman on that strand.”

“There was. And she was a beauty.” Troll dropped the oars for a moment, sketching a shapely form in the air. “Long black hair and fine features, smooth creamy skin, white as fallen snow. Her gown clung to her, a slip of silvery-blue. And she wore a fine gray cloak I wouldn’t have minded taking back to Norway for my mother. She was a lady, no doubt.” He licked his lips, his grip on the oars now white-knuckled. “Just think how sweet her-”

“I’m thinking Ironstorm will thrash you to bits when he hears you were ogling mist and calling it a woman. Our task was to learn the strength of Blackshore’s walls.

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