Warrior of the Highlands by Veronica Wolff

Author:Veronica Wolff [Wolff, Veronica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Man-Woman Relationships, College Students, Fiction, Romance, General, Time Travel, Highlands (Scotland)
ISBN: 9780425226759
Publisher: Berkley Sensation

Chapter Seventeen

Tossing his sword down, MacColla fell to his knees by Haley’s side, and joy shuddered through her.

She had been poised to fight—and braced for defeat. But then he’d appeared from nowhere. She’d fought, and would have fought til the end, but a hero of old had shown up and taken care of everything, and she’d been more than happy to let him.

Her modern sensibilities didn’t want to think about what the implications of that were.

Looking at him now—black hair loose to his shoulders, the intensity of his rich brown eyes, the sweep of muted green, blue, and black plaid over his shoulder—the sight of him was so profoundly reassuring, so comforting, she had to hold herself up from collapsing to the ground in relief.

Roving his eyes over her, he rubbed his hands along her arms, her shoulders, patting her gently, searching for some injury.

“I… I’m fine,” she said, and he stilled. MacColla took a deep breath, and though his body seemed to unclench, his gaze still wouldn’t meet hers.

He slowly drew his hands to her waist, held them there for a moment, then stroked up her torso, grazing his thumbs along the sides of her breasts.

His eyes lingered on her every curve.

And instead of flaring with pain, her ribs suffused with warmth at his touch, as if the muscles could at last release, and she could be at ease.

Finally he looked up, his eyes locking with hers. And then lines etched deep at his forehead, instantly anxious to see the blood on her face where she’d been kicked. He was silent as he took the edge of his plaid, blotted her chin.

He moved his focus to her mouth.

The tartan slipped from his fingers, and MacColla stroked his thumb gently along her lower lip. He murmured tenderly, his Gaelic words too low to understand.

His face was close now. and Haley drank him in. The beautiful face that was too fierce to be conventionally handsome. The strong. Roman nose, with a high bridge that seemed to emerge directly from between his brows. Sharp cheekbones. A dusting of black stubble at his jaw.

She drank MacColla in and felt such a rush of wanting him, it was like a burst of light from within, scorching her. blinding her to all but the man before her. It raged beyond her control, this need, and she thought that it would consume her, that if it burned on untended, she might cease to exist.

“How is it I love you already, gràdh geal mo chrìdhe?” His voice was barely a whisper.

He cupped her face and slowly leaned in to her. His hands encompassed her. so broad and sure on her skin. She felt his breath on her mouth. Felt the brush of his lips. Then the slow give of flesh on flesh, as he gently kissed her.

Yes.

For three heartbeats, Haley was suspended. Everything stilled around her, captured frozen, a vignette in time. And she knew. This is what she came back in time for. For him.

Three heartbeats, and the embers he’d lit within her burst into wildfire.

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