TemptationinTartan Read Online Free Page B

TemptationinTartan
Book: TemptationinTartan Read Online Free
Author: Suz deMello
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breed renowned for their lack of honor and outright sneakiness.
    And what if she did cry off? Would it really matter? His
clan wouldn’t be as wealthy, but they didn’t fare poorly without her. They ate
fish from the sea and hunted game in nearby forests. Greens and herbs were
plentiful—even now he knew they were being dried and stored for the winter.
    He worried his lower lip, concerned about reprisals from the
red-coated Lobsterbacks. He’d sworn never to give up tartan or sword and didn’t
want the lovely lassie to make a liar of him.
    “Whisht, mon.” Dugald, his second-in-command, tapped Kier’s
shoulder. “Ye’re wearing a track in the stone.”
    Kieran stopped, laughed and blotted his brow with a
handkerchief. “Ye’re right. ’Twouldn’t do for the Sassenachs to see me sweat.”
He leaned against a stone buttress, letting its coolness seep through his body
and calm his soul.
    “Do ye think ye can protect her? From him?”
    Though Dugald did not use a name, Kier had no trouble
interpreting his cousin’s questions. “Aye,” he said. “Euan is safeguarding the
keep. If we’re lucky, the sea will take him if he ventures out through the
caves.”
    “That hasn’t happened, and it’s been decades. What of
yerself?” Dugald asked.
    Kieran pinched the bridge of his nose. “She’s in no danger
from me. Yet.”
    A coach bearing the Swann arms, two floating white birds
with their necks entwined, drew up and came to a rattling stop. A door opened
and, before a servant could help, a golden-slippered foot shot out and kicked
at the steps. They opened with a clatter and Lydia thrust forth her dark head
and trod on the top step.
    “An eager bride,” Dugald said.
    Kieran chuckled. “Probably eager to escape that dragon of a
mother.”
    As they walked toward the coach, Henrietta’s regal form,
clad in Egyptian brown, descended after Lydia.
    “’Twere me, I’d be afeared that the acorn falls not far from
the oak,” Dugald remarked.
    “Not Lydia. ’Tis sweet she is. The lemon blossom, not the
sour fruit. ’Tis my task to ensure she stays that way.”
    Even while Kier spoke, his gaze never left her. She was so
beautiful that it hurt his eyes to look at her. A golden angel, but with a
sensual mouth he’d been dreaming about night after night. And no celestial
being had breasts like Lydia’s.
    He couldn’t bear to be without her touch a moment longer,
and offered her his arm. She took it with a quivering lace-gloved hand and
looked up at him with great, dark, nervous eyes. He smiled, hoping he radiated
strength and reassurance, for he sensed that Dugald was wrong. She was not an
eager bride, but an anxious one. He guessed that because her previous union had
not been happy, beneath her finery she was terrified. Not of him, but of
marriage and the marriage bed.
    Had she needed to see him in the last few days as much as
he’d yearned for her?
    * * * * *
    One look into Kieran’s deep, soulful eyes, warm as a summer
night, told Lydia she’d worried for naught. She was certain of her course. But
she warned herself that she could be wrong. She’d been certain before and she’d
been wrong before. Nevertheless, she took his arm when offered. He placed his
big, brawny hand over her small one and she swayed from the force of her
emotions.
    “Are ye all right, lassie?” He sounded concerned.
    She was grateful for this proof that he’d treat her kindly.
His hand tightened and she raised her gaze again to search his face. She was struck
by his uncanny male beauty, with chiseled features that no sculptor could hope
to imitate. His pale skin contrasted with the slash of his brows and his
midnight-black eyes, which now glowed with warmth and compassion.
    He leaned down a trifle. “Dinnae worry, kylyrra ,” he
whispered into her ear. “We’ll be comfortable soon, I assure ye.”
    How had he known of her feelings? How had she revealed her
unease? She oughtn’t to show weakness in public. She straightened her

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