The Accidental Highland Hero Read Online Free

surveyed the sheep pastured in the glen, and seeing no sign of the raiding Dunbartons, he motioned for his men to continue the sweep south. He would string every last one of the raiders by his neck if he didn’t put them to the sword first, he swore.
    And to think he was supposed to be concentrating on wedding the fair Catriona, not dealing with troubles at his clan borders again. The thought of her creamy soft skin beneath his, the way she moved her hips, hurrying his thrusts, and mewed her pleasure stirred him all over again. Although it had been a year since he had been with the widowed lass, it seemed like yesterday.
    Catriona . He could not wait to see her on the morrow, although he was tired of pretending they had a chaste relationship in front of his clansmen, whilst burying himself deep inside her when she stayed in the chamber adjoining his. She had to agree to be his this time. She had to. He would allow her no other answer.
    Movement in the woods stole his attention. ‘Twas a Dunbarton!  The murdering thieves . With a war whoop, James targeted the bearded, heavy-set man, his tangled red hair hanging about his shoulders. He responded by charging toward James with a hearty war cry of his own. James’s own men had scattered in search of the Dunbartons and those who were allied with them, so he was on his own. But James would not let the whoreson out of his grasp. Either he killed him, or he took him hostage. Those were the only choices he would allow.
    The redheaded beast seemed of like mind and with murder in his eyes, swung his sword at James. But James had fought valiantly in the Crusade and for his father until his death, ensuring the MacNeill lands were free from poachers and brigands. The man would not best him.
    Yet the sheer force of the Dunbarton’s blows sent a jarring vibration through James’s sword arm every time steel met steel.  The mountain was unmovable, and the strikes James dealt seemed to have no affect.
     The beast gave a sly grin, his blue eyes narrowed with despise. “Laird MacNeill, you will taste my sword afore long. Why do you not give up?  Make it easier on yourself. You know Laird Dunbarton will send us to plague you until you give your life for his nephew.”
    “’Tis I who should be seeking Laird Dunbarton’s head for the death of my dear sister,” James said dryly.
    Yet he knew the fault partly lay with him. Had he let his sister marry the Dunbarton’s nephew, would they still be alive today?  Mayhap not. But he couldn’t stamp down the feeling he was the reason for his sweet sister’s death.
    The battle between the clans had gone on for over a century. They killed a MacNeill, and the MacNeill evened the score. It would go on for several more centuries, no doubt.
    Just when James thought he had struck a decisive blow, cutting the brigand clean across the chest, blood spilling from the fresh cut, the giant retaliated. Striking James’s readied sword with such force, the brigand knocked James from his horse.
    On foot against the big man, James was sorely disadvantaged. Crippling the Dunbarton’s horse might have worked to even the odds, but even in battle, James could not injure a good horse. Instead, he danced like some Sassenach fool, moving himself out of the path of the rider and his horse, feeling the whoosh of the beast’s steel but missing the cut of its blade. Then swinging about as if readying himself for the final battle, only with him on foot and his opponent mounted, he waited for the Dunbarton to make a mistake.
    With their eyes staring each other down, the Dunbarton kicked his warhorse forward.
    James swung his sword first and made a deep cut across the Dunbarton’s thigh. With a howl, the enemy missed striking at James, who nimbly jumped away.
    The Dunbarton whipped his horse around and charged again. Except this time, he swung first, and the impact of his sword against James’s knocked him off his feet. With a thud, James landed hard on his back,