Duchess of Mine Read Online Free PDF

face. It was a palomino, blond much like his
owner, also very beautiful. But unlike the gelding, she doubted
anything about Rory was not sexual. Wow, that Rory was handsome.
Should have been in the pictures, Na would have said.
    But it was Duncan who utterly distracted her.
As he’d emerged from the cold bay, his huge arms bent so he could
smooth his unruly red hair away from his face, his white shirt had
been completely translucent, clinging to every ridge and band of
his torso. He was the epitome of masculinity, stunning, and
chiseled. Before he’d stalked into the water, something had crossed
his eyes. Pain. Raw, overwhelming, and making the sculpture of
Duncan into a beautiful human she wanted to draw into her arms and
comfort. Which, being the guarded woman she was, made no sense.
    She had to shake herself, pay attention to
the horse sizing her up. Slowly, she lifted her hand to his
velvet-soft nose, letting him take in her scent.
    “ Wíyuškiŋyaŋ waŋčhíí yaŋke he,” she
whispered
    The sun was stolen from the sky suddenly, and
she looked up at Duncan, creating instant shade as he towered over
her.
    “What’d ye say?”
    Feeling heat rise to her cheeks, she
sheepishly looked to the steed. “That I was pleased to meet him,
pleased to meet the horse. It’s customary to make introductions,
you know.” She patted the yellow mount and nervously smiled up at
Duncan, hoping he’d take the comment as a joke, although she did
believe in giving a horse some time to get to know her.
    Already, the horse radiated a sense of calm
and reassurance to her presence, his ears pricking toward her.
She’d been riding before she could walk, so being around the horse
provided her with a sense of peace she didn’t feel. She’d thought
about freaking out when Duncan had told her the date, screaming,
crying, maybe both? But...what good would that do?
    When she’d first seen Duncan, she’d thought
him some local guy—although, he’d been wearing a kilt, and she’d
hardly seen a man before him don one while here in Scotland, which
utterly disappointed both she and her best friend, Rachel. After
that nightmare of a nap to wake up to the sight of him had been
dreamy and wonderful. But then she’d seen the small houses dotting
the horizon, the road had changed from paved to dirt, and he’d told
her the date. The freaking date! No, she couldn’t be in
seventeenth-century Scotland. But some part of her knew she was.
After all, in that, ah, hallucination, or whatever it was, she’d
been promised to go back a long time ago, to get a glimpse ,
and here she was.
    Duncan was silent for a moment, his
explosive-with-many-colors hazel eyes turning a shade darker. He
nodded, and before she could let out a peep, he wrapped his hands
around her waist and hefted her onto the horse’s saddle as if she
didn’t weigh more than a child, a small child. Lifting a leg, she
sat astride the gelding, never too sure how women rode sidesaddle
in the first place. She gripped the horse’s mane over his withers.
Duncan hadn’t jumped behind her as she’d expected but was still on
the ground, holding the reins. Seeming to make sure she was settled
first, he started walking forward.
    “I’m takin’ ye to my mother’s,” Duncan said
almost softly. “She’s a nurse, a healer. Can help ye.”
    Fleur panicked, wondering if he’d kept his
promise. Leaning beside the horse’s neck, she whispered into
Duncan’s ear, “What are you going to tell her? What did you say to
that Rory guy?”
    Thoroughly surprising her, Duncan let out a
chuckle. But recovered quickly. He slightly turned his head, where
hers was only inches from his. “Ye might fall off, lass. Please be
careful.”
    She rolled her eyes. It had only taken a
couple seconds to register the horse’s center of gravity, the way
his energy bounced out and into her, and the fact that he was an
obedient mount, seeming to calm himself with every step. She would
not fall off.
    Fleur caught