The Summer Star: One Legend, Three Enchanting Novellas (Legends of Scotland Book 2) by Tanya Anne Crosby & Glynnis Campbell & Laurin Wittig

Author:Tanya Anne Crosby & Glynnis Campbell & Laurin Wittig [Crosby, Tanya Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781942820444
Publisher: Oliver-Heber Books
Published: 2017-06-26T18:30:00+00:00

Brochan shook his head. More than anything, he hated being blamed for things he hadn’t done.

All his life, he’d followed the code of chivalry. He’d tried to be a decent man. He’d always done the honorable thing. He’d taught his sons right from wrong, leading by his example.

He had willingly and singlehandedly accepted responsibility for his children, his servants, a herd of cows, and this new holding with its derelict tower.

It was bad enough that anything that went awry was his fault. But to be accused of doing something as heinous and reprehensible as clouting a lass when he’d never dream of raising his hand to a woman…

“Da would never hit a lady,” Colin said.

“Aye, thank ye, Colin.” At least one person in this hall trusted his character. Brochan looked down at the bonnie reiver with smug satisfaction. “That’s right.”

Then Cambel added, “But sittin’ on one is perfectly fine.”

Rauf sounded like he was strangling on laughter.

Brochan sighed. The frankness of wee lads was both a blessing and a curse.

The lass beneath him arched her brow in challenge, awaiting his reply.

“Nay, Cambel,” he admitted. “Sittin’ on a lady is not perfectly fine. Not usually. But as laird, ‘tis my duty to make sure she isn’t goin’ to hurt my clan.”

“Why, Da? Is she dangerous?” Cambel asked.

He gazed down at his captive. Was she dangerous? He had her at his mercy now. But he had to admit, getting a closer look at the lass, that she was dangerously attractive. And between the feral beauty of her face, her arching bosom, and her insistent squirming between his thighs, the wee, wild wench was making him feel dangerously awakened.

“Is she, Da?” Colin echoed.

“Dangerous?” Brochan cocked his head at her. “Well, lass, are ye?”

“Ye’ll find out just how dangerous if ye don’t let me go.”

Her words were harsh and threatening. But Brochan detected a flicker of fear in her eyes. He decided she was about as dangerous as a cornered kitten with tiny claws and her fur on end—all hiss and spit.

“I’d be a fool to let ye go,” he told her gently. “But give me no trouble, and I’ll do ye no harm. Once I get my cattle back, I’ll return ye, good as new.”

She looked horrified. “I’m a hostage?”

He winced. “I wouldn’t say so much a hostage as a…” He couldn’t really think of a better term.

“I’m a bloody hostage,” she bit out, renewing her fight to get free. “Ye son o’ the devil!” She twisted beneath him. “Damn ye to hell!”

“Ooh! She’s goin’ to have to clean the garderobe, Da,” Cambel announced.

“Aye,” Colin agreed, telling the lass, “Da says if ye use foul words, ye have to do foul work.”

If he weren’t so busy battling the wee wildcat beneath him, Brochan would have grinned in approval at his sons’ comments.

The lass’s brown eyes smoldered with fury. “Let. Me. Go.”

“What’s a hostage, Da?” Colin asked.

“A hostage is someone you hold on to…for safekeeping,” he said pointedly, “until the person who wants her back pays the price.

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