Seduced by the Scot (The Perks of Being an Heiress Book 3) by Jillian Eaton

Author:Jillian Eaton [Eaton, Jillian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

If Brynne had been beautiful in the ballroom, she was stunning in the night. With moonlight in her hair and mist pooling at her feet, she really did resemble a fairy princess. And while he was more dragon than prince, Lachlan still intended to make her his bride.

He wanted her–had wanted her, all these years past–with a fierceness that occasionally set him back onto his heels. The breadth of it, and the enormity, was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. Which was fitting, as Brynne was unlike anyone he’d ever met before.

While their interactions had been painfully brief and stuttered, the impact of them was no less than if he would have spent every day in her company. Of this, he was certain.

Killed off long ago for their pelts and threat to livestock, wolves hadn’t roamed the Highlands for centuries. But when they did, it was rumored that the wild creatures–savage to both man and beast–mated for life. Some met their partner early, others later. But when a male chose his female, they said there was nothing that could separate them aside from eternal slumber. Even then, the one left behind never took another mate for as long as it lived. Such was the strength of their allegiance. Their dedication. Their devotion.

Brynne was Lachlan’s she-wolf.

And he’d loved her since he was sixteen.

That was not to say he hadn’t let his head be turned by a pretty face or two in the nearly ten years between then and now. He was a Scot, not a saint. But no matter who he’d used to sate his physical urges, his thoughts had never strayed far from a girl with golden hair and an angel’s face.

Finally, the day had arrived to claim the prize he’d waited almost a decade for. A prize he’d done his best to earn by sinking countless hours, money, and resources into a business venture that he hoped would give Brynne the life and the material possessions she was accustomed to. That she deserved. For the loneliness she’d endured. For the way she’d been dressed up and pranced about as if she were a show pony on display. For the pain she was hiding behind a vacant smile that no one ever seemed to notice except for him.

“I knew you’d come,” she said simply as she rose from the bench in a waterfall of pale blue satin. Her hair was swept off her temple in a crown of curls adorned with sapphire combs. A loose tendril had escaped and dangled on her shoulder, drawing attention to the creamy sea of flesh revealed above the daringly low cut of her bodice. The gown fit her long-limbed frame to perfection, with nary a stitch that needed to be taken or given. While other women at the ball sought to bring attention to themselves with ornate bows and oversized bustles, this dress, while somewhat plain in design, allowed Brynne’s natural beauty to take center stage. And oh, how she glowed.

His abdominal muscles

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