A Highlander's Home Read Online Free PDF Page A

large, oversized canopy bed made out of the same dark wood as the door occupied the entire north section of the room.  A table with two chairs was in one corner and a large bureau was in the other.  The floor was covered in a dark red beautifully woven rug that must have cost a fortune.  Raine realized suddenly where she was.  His room.  Oh, God, he does intend to rape me.   She pursed her lips and dug her hee ls into the carpet.  Not without a fight, he won’t!
                  He seemed to read her thoughts and smiled quite devilishly .  “Relax, mistress.  Only willing women are invited to my bed.”  The door closed with a dull thud.  
                  She wanted to ask just how many women, but instead said, “I should explain.  It is so hard to believe, I barely believe it myself , but it is true.  I am not who you think I am.  I am not from this –” she held her hands up “– land, but I don ’ t kn ow how I got here either .” 
                  He sat on the bed and leaned back on one elbow.   His eyes seemed to bore into her.   He decided to humor her. 
    “I agree.  We should talk.  Already the servants are gossiping.  My mother will be here in a day or two to begin the marriage prepa rations as well and , though I love her dearly , she is prone to gossiping as much as they are .  So,” he said, “tell me why you were running away from my cousin , lass .”
                  She sighed with relief.  Better to start at the beginning.   She walked to the window and stared out over the green rolling hills.  When she turned back to him, her breath caught.  He was still leaning back with his legs crossed at the ankles, his shirt slightly open, his hair tousled by the breeze from the window.  His eyes were so blue against his darkness and the wa y he was watching her was just … sexy.  She thought for a split second how soft his hair would be if she ran her fingers through it.
                  Raine had to give herself a slig ht shake to keep her mind on the task at hand .  This man had the power to throw her in the dungeon or possibly help her find a way back home. 
    She started her story, staring more at her feet as she paced the room, trying to choose her words carefully so that he might be able to better associate this with his own understanding.  She told him of the stones in the middle of the open field, of the professor and his rambling that night about special words , the blasting thunderstorm with its wild and wet sheets of rain, and eventually how she awoke within the confines of the camp belonging to his mean spirited cousin.
                  When she had finished her explanation , she was sitting in front of the window but no longer seeing the beauty of the Scottish countryside.  Rather, she stared into nothingness, speaking her thoughts aloud instead of actually telling a story.  She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and turned to look at him, still seated on the massive bed.
                  His brows were drawn together in consternation and he studied his fingernails.  He leaned forward.  “In your land, women are allowed to hold positions and earn money?”  She nodded.  “And this is considered respectable?”  She nodded again. 
                  Now he was the one who paced the room in thought.  “This professor,” he said.  He pinned her with a stare.  “He was your husband?” 
                  “No.”
                  “Your lover then?”
                  “No.”  Her voice rose an octave, showing her irritation.  She was trying to tell him her theory on possible time travel , and he was worried about her love life!
                  “Your fiancé?  Your man?”  His frown deepened.  “No!”  She wanted to scream.  He must have sensed it, or maybe it was the sudden redness of her lovely cheeks