My Highland Bride Read Online Free

lower. How can I tell them I’m about to leave them too?

    “You’ve been talking to Granny, haven’t you?”
    Kenna nodded without lifting her gaze from the yellowed countertop. “Yes, Mairi. I spoke to Granny. The two of you just missed her.” She huffed out a heavy sigh and sagged against the cabinet. “She sends her love and said to tell you both she’s very proud of you.”
    “If that’s what she said, then why do you look like you’re about to throw up?” Mairi’s eyes widened and she suddenly sat ramrod straight. “Oh, no—is Trulie all right? Please say she didn’t lose this baby too.” Mairi hopped off the stool and rushed around the counter to Kenna’s side.
    “Oh, no…not again.” Lilia rounded the other end of the kitchen island.
    Kenna waved both sisters a step back. “No. No. Nothing like that. Trulie’s feeling fine, and is due to deliver our little niece or nephew into the world any day now.”
    “Then what?” Lilia bumped Kenna with a curvaceous hip and grinned. “Did Granny tell you it was your turn to go back to the past and hook up with a sexy Highlander?”
    Kenna didn’t say a word, just turned and glared at Lilia. Baby sister already knew the truth of it, and she hadn’t even needed any of her damn foretelling visions that happened to be her dominant talent as a Sinclair time runner.
    “Holy shit, she did, didn’t she?” Lilia’s mouth dropped open.
    “Holy shit,” Mairi echoed.
    Her sisters’ profound statements pretty much summed up exactly how she felt about the situation. Kenna yanked open the overhead cabinet door, blindly patted her hand to the back of the shelf, and snaked out a dust-covered bottle of brandy. “Granny didn’t exactly put it that way, but she might as well have. You know she’s always had plans on seeing us all settled, and she never liked this point in time on the web. In Granny’s mind, thirteenth-century Scotland is the only era fit to claim as home base.” Kenna plunked the round-bellied bottle down to the counter and nodded to Mairi. “Get some glasses. I need a drink, and you both will too after you hear Granny’s plan.”

    “Wow. It really must be bad if you’re gonna let us drink too.” Lilia circled back around and perched on the stool. “Especially Granny’s brandy.”
    “Here.” Mairi slid the glasses into a line beside the bottle. “But are you sure you really want a drink? You know alcohol always makes you feel like crap no matter how little you drink.”
    Kenna nodded, pulled the stopper free of the bottle, and poured a generous splash of the dark-colored liquid into each of the glasses. They’d gotten this bottle when they’d accidentally missed their targeted era on a practice jump and landed in fourteenth-century Italy. Granny had taken a liking to the sweet brandy and she’d brought a bottle of it back when they’d returned home. What a jump that had been. The girls had loved Italy.
    A strained rumble gurgled up from her queasy middle. “I already feel like crap.” And she did. The thought of jumping back to the past had her stomach churning. She often wondered if something was wrong with her. She was a freakin’ time runner, for cripes’ sake. A Sinclair. Born to a long generation of females able to skate back and forth across time whenever they pleased. Kenna downed the swallow of brandy and cringed against the burn. She was some time runner all right. Every time she jumped the web, she vomited everything but her socks. Kenna swallowed hard against the rising nausea, already roiling with a sickly burn. Damn . She was about to puke at the very thought of time-running again.

    “So when do we leave?” Lilia asked. She sniffed the contents of her glass, wrinkled her nose, and set it back down. “I’m not gonna drink that. It smells like cough syrup.”
    “ We don’t leave.” Kenna licked her lips and refilled her glass with an even more generous splash of Italy’s best. She stared down at the rich