Her Highland Fling Read Online Free

good Highland whisky.
    “Ah, I remember my first brush with a Highland malt. Much the same reaction as yours. ’Tis the sort of taste one acquires with time and practice.” He slid into the wooden bench across the table from her and pointed to the glass that held the darkest liquid. “Someone should warn you that this one is rather potent. And the previous lass who did this sort of research at the Blue Gander wound up married.”
    Blue eyes widened. “To you ?”
    He chuckled, the words coming easier now. “No. To my brother, James. Not that the lady minded in the end, you ken.”
    “That sounds intriguing.” She leaned forward across the table. “T-tell me more.”
    William grinned. It was a relief to know his tongue could still work with a little effort. “It was quite the scandal at the time. Now they’ve a bonny wee babe to bounce on their knee.”
    Her blond head bent down, and she scribbled something in her notebook.
    William felt a frisson of foreboding. “I don’t believe . . . that is . . . Their courtship is not something you should write about.”
    “Oh?” she asked, still writing furiously. “I thought I was invited here to expressly write about Moraig’s charms.” She looked up at him, though her hand kept flying across the page. “And it’s very a charming story. T-tell me, how does one usually get married in Moraig?”
    William hesitated, distracted as hell by the sight of her talking and writing at the same time. “The blacksmith most often does the honors. And . . . ah . . . Reverend Ramsey, if the couple wants a church wedding.”
    “And your brother’s wedding,” she pressed. Her nonoccupied hand slid the darkest glass of whisky toward him, as though inviting him to share. “What sort of ceremony d-did they have? You mentioned the lady was inebriated?”
    William’s chest squeezed tight, and he sought a moment’s respite by tossing the proffered glass back. His brain was definitely muddled, and not only by the ale. He could handle four pints. What he was beginning to doubt he could handle was Miss Tolbertson.
    Now would be a good time for his tongue to retie itself. The story wasn’t a secret, per se. In fact, the circumstances of his brother’s impromptu wedding came closer to legend around these parts. But he felt rather protective of Georgette, his new sister-in-law, and truly, the events of that night had not been her fault at all.
    Through his panicked musings, the pencil scratched merrily on. William stared at it, half fascinated, half appalled. Christ, but Miss Tolbertson was tenacious. He was beginning to have an inkling she was probably an excellent reporter.
    And that meant he needed to be a bit more careful around her.
    William reached out a hand and stilled the pencil’s furious progress. “Has anyone ever told you about the mysterious creatures that inhabit Loch Moraig?” he asked, thinking as quickly as his addled brain would permit.
    “Are you referring to water d-dragons?” A pale, perfect brow arched high. “Several bodies of water in this region boast such creatures. That hardly makes Moraig special.”
    William blinked, already mortified he had said such a thing . Out loud. Damn his brother for putting such a ridiculous idea in his head. He might have had a few pints and a glass of whisky, but he was also an educated man, hardly believing in such things, even if some of the more superstitious town residents still spoke of wraiths and other creatures that would drag a man to his death.
    And Moraig was special. He would prove it to her yet.
    But he needed tourists to want to come here for a restorative holiday, not fear for their lives if they dipped a toe in the loch’s waters. “No, I refer to crodh mara , of course.”
    She laid down her pencil. “Crodh mara?”
    “Aye.” He nodded. “Water cattle.”
    “Really.” Her lips pursed into a heart-stopping smile. “C-cattle seem so much less . . .”
    “Fearsome?” William leaned back, feeling