Highland Bachelor 02 - This Laird of Mine Read Online Free PDF Page A

to deal with the estate and try to carve out a living for himself. It wasn’t that much to ask, was it?
    He opened his eyes and, almost against his will, his gaze returned to his “wife’s” eyes—eyes that sparked with intelligence. The thought brought a moment’s pause as her gaze connected with his. She did not look like a schemer. In fact, she looked very much like someone he and his friends might actually befriend.
    She did not react to his bold stare. Instead, she folded her hands in her lap. What secrets lay behind those wide, golden eyes? Why would a woman of her obvious good breeding and education pretend to be the wife of a man she did not know?
    He tried to look away from her and the mystery she presented, to shift his attention back to Jane, but something about this woman drew him in. Despite her horrible dress, and her severe hair, she had a presence that was hard to deny. It was as if she were unaware of her own energy, or how the slightest shift of her movements could fix any man’s attention.
    Jules frowned. What was he thinking? The woman was a fraud. She wanted something from him. Why else would she pose as Claire MacIntyre? He needed to figure out what that “something” was, and quickly, before she attached herself to his friends and his life.
    He moved to Claire’s side, offered his hand to help her stand. She set her cup aside and accepted his outstretched fingers. When she stood, he slipped his hand about her waist, drawing her against his side. She startled at the contact, but did not object. Instead she tossed him a half smile and released a light laugh.
    Jules forced a look of fondness mixed with hunger into his expression. The hunger part was easier to feign as his supposed wife’s soft body pressed against his own. It had been years since he had held a woman this intimately. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath of lavender mixed with vanilla. The combination sent a jolt of fire to his loins. He snapped his eyes open, no longer having to feign desire for the woman in his arms.
    “Friends, if you will forgive us, Claire and I have much to discuss. We have been apart too long.” Jules did not wait for an answer from his guests as he guided Claire toward the door and out of the chamber. He shut the door behind him, then guided his “bride” to the main hallway, then up the stairs.
    “Where are we going?” Claire asked with only a hint of distress in her voice.
    “To your new chamber.”
    She stiffened, but did not break her stride. “The master’s chamber?”
    “No, you will have to earn your way there, my dear.” Annoyance tugged at him as he drew her down another hallway and toward the rear of the manor. He could not merely send her away, not with his friends here to witness such an act. He was obliged to play along with this farce for a time.
    At the end of the hallway, he waved the woman at his side up another spiral stairway and into the tower room. She came to a stop in the middle of the tiny, dusty chamber, so different than the one downstairs, while he moved to the hearth and lit a single candle with a strike from the flint and steel.
    Pale, golden light illuminated the room, making it appear less neglected. The only furniture in the chamber was a small, sagging bed. She could find some comfort here. Jules frowned and pushed the thought away. He turned back to the woman. She clutched her hands together, her nervousness palpable. She exuded fragility and weakness.
    “You no longer need to pretend with me, Claire. If that is your real name.” Jules gazed into her face, searching for the duplicity he was sure to find in her large, golden eyes.
    She held his gaze. Met it boldly. “My name is Claire. And I am your wife.”
    “Yet how can that be? I never stood before the minister. Have you, Claire?” The sound of her name lingered on his tongue longer than it should have. He had pulled that name from the air when he had created his false wife, not from anyone he had