Highland Surrender Read Online Free PDF Page A

really.
    Cam, however, was infinitely polite, infinitely solicitous in her presence. Did he like her? As a person, as a human being, as a woman, a lifelong companion?
    Probably not. Maybe someday he would. That would be ideal, of course, but ultimately she didn’t care. As long as Cam didn’t hate her, nothing else mattered.
    All she desired was freedom from Uncle Walter. And if Cam was hurt . . .
    She turned to Robert MacLean. “Stop immediately. You must go back to search for Lord Camdonn. I’ll continue on foot to the castle and inform them that the earl is missing. But if he’s in dire need, you might find him first and save him. If we delay any longer, we could be too late.”
    Robert MacLean didn’t respond. He didn’t even deign to look at her—instead his eyes focused unerringly on the uneven surface of the path.
    “Stop at once. I insist.” She pushed at the arm clasped round her waist, but it wouldn’t budge.
    “Nay.”
    “Where are you taking me?”
    “To Camdonn Castle.”
    She sat in rising frustration as the horse plodded forward. When they arrived at Camdonn Castle, Uncle Walter would take control, and she would be impotent. Desperation surged through her. She didn’t trust her uncle to help Cam. If Cam was hurt, the Highlander sitting behind her was her only hope.
    When she spoke, it was in her quietest, most lethal voice. The voice that made her servants at home blanch in fear. “You must obey me.”
    “Why?” He seemed mildly amused.
    “Because I am the niece of the Duke of Irvington, of course.”
    “Aye, and the betrothed of the Earl of Camdonn. You’ll find high-and-mighty English titles mean a wee bit less to Highlanders.”
    Highlanders. The word rolled off his tongue carnally, and her stomach fluttered even as she clenched her fists in her skirts. How dare he dismiss her order so lightly? She ground her teeth, hating him, hating even more how her body responded to him. Still, her desperation to help Cam overwhelmed it all.
    “I could have you horsewhipped.”
    Her threat sounded as though it came from the mouth of a petulant child—no, worse. She sounded as horrible as her uncle, and a flash flood of shame thundered through her.
    If Robert MacLean hadn’t hated her before, her words certainly sealed the impression. He didn’t make any move to obey her; instead, his arm stiffened about her waist, and steam seemed to billow from his body. He was so warm, she struggled not to sink into him like the softest of down quilts. Even though he was hard as stone.
    It suddenly seemed far more likely he’d have her horsewhipped.
    The fight drained out of her, dripped right out of her toes. She’d lost, and it was her own fault.
    She closed her eyes in self-loathing. She was such a horrid brat. Lord knew she would never inflict a terrible punishment like a horse-whipping on such a delicious man. Whether he deserved it or not. She’d never consciously inflict such a punishment on anyone , no matter what they looked like, no matter how evil their disposition. He believed he was doing the honorable thing by taking her to Cam’s home. He couldn’t be faulted for that.
    She should apologize for making such a vile threat. Certainly she should. She must .
    But she couldn’t. The harder she tried to push I’m sorry from her throat, the tighter it closed, simply refusing to release the words.
    Uncle Walter surely had Cam’s best interests in mind. She had to trust in that, if nothing else. Her uncle had no reason to wish for Cam’s demise. If her uncle had a desire to see Cam dead, he’d already be long gone.
    The horse shifted abruptly, and Elizabeth opened her eyes. Here the road began a steep descent down the back of the mountain. At the bottom, probably a bit less than a mile away, water stretched in a placid blue line, calm and pristine. A lake—no, a loch was what they called it here. Green cliffs speckled with great white boulders rose from the opposite bank, ascending steeply toward