Her Highland Rogue: A Wild Highland Guardian Novel Read Online Free Page A

promise to check my snares in the morning, I will give you food and shelter for the night.”
    “Ye live here?”
    “Aye,” she said. “In secret to most.”
    In all his years wandering amongst the Five Sisters, he’d never seen or heard of a woman living in the hills. A hundred questions came to mind, but he’d save them for later. “I’ll check your traps,” he said. “If you’ll answer my original question. Have you seen the lass I described?”
    “My daughter is waiting for us,” she said, once again ignoring his query. “Follow me.”
    He did, climbing higher, skirting a cliff, and gazing below. One slip and he’d break every bone in his body. Some men feared heights, not Errol. It reminded him of the presence of God. Whenever he surveyed the world below, he knew why he’d fight to the death to protect his clan and the MacKenzies. Nothing mattered more than his birthright. And someday soon, he knew he’d be laird.
    “We’ve arrived.” Sgùrr pointed at a fire burning at the mouth of the cave. “Please go inside, I shall return.”
    Errol watched as she disappeared around a cluster of rocks, then eyed the shelter. It would feel good to eat and rest for a while. Without hesitation, he strutted inside and stopped abruptly. Sitting in a chair at the back of the cave was the last person he’d expected to see. He couldn’t mistake the color or texture of her red mane.
    “Aileana,” he growled, half of him wanting to shake her senseless.
    She turned slowly, her eyes growing wide as she met his gaze. “Errol? What are ye doing here?”
    “That’s the funny thing, lass; I was about to ask ye the same question.”

Chapter 4
    Aileana kept her gaze fastened to the laird’s son as she quickly stood, then curtsied out of respect. She’d always admired his rugged features, his strong jaw, those gray eyes that seemed to light up whenever he beheld a beautiful woman, his dark hair with streaks of coppery-gold, the stubble on his chin, and that incredibly expressive mouth—the one that spewed curses at the feast table whenever someone angered him, and just as easily soothed a weeping lass. She should know, having served his meals these last eight years.
    “Forgive me,” she said. “Did you come all this way for me?”
    He stalked closer, looking irritated and exhausted. “Did you think my father would leave you to the wolves or the Hebridean outlaws that plague us? If they found you, God only knows what they’d do. Women are kidnapped, never to be heard from again. Is this how you repay the laird’s kindness, by running away? The MacDonalds are on the loose, girl. Our tenuous peace has been irretrievably broken. What if they attack our home while I’m gone?”
    Guilt washed over her as she trembled. She eyed the sword sheathed at his hip, wondering what it would be like to see him in battle. Oh, she’d watched from the keep windows when he practiced in the bailey. Few could beat him. And the women chattered incessantly about his skills off the field. Her cheeks heated immediately.
    “Are you suddenly struck speechless?”
    “No.” But her imagination had gotten the better of her momentarily. She owed him an explanation. Maybe once he understood, he wouldn’t be so angry. She hoped. “How did you find me?”
    “The woman, Sgùrr. She showed me this place, offered sustenance if I agreed to check her snares in the morning. Is there food?” Errol’s attention switched to the table behind her.
    “Yes.” She turned around and grabbed an empty wooden bowl off the table, then walked to the fire, where broth flavored with parsley and garlic waited. She spooned a generous amount into the bowl, making sure he got plenty of leeks and cabbage to eat. “Please,” she said. “Sit. There is bread, and wine to drink.”
    Errol removed his fur, draping it over the back of the chair before he sat down. His great size dwarfed the furniture. She pushed a wooden spoon in his direction, but he refused it, and