Highlander Brawn Read Online Free PDF

her eyes quickly narrowed in on her husband as he wielded his sword above his head. He was mesmerizing. He exuded strength, the sinews bunching, curling, extending with each movement. Her body reacted immediately with lust.
    Not good.
    When he spotted her, he blew a shrill whistle through his lips and all his men stopped what they were doing within two seconds.
    He stalked toward her, a scowl on his face that would cow even a seasoned warrior, but she was not afraid. In fact, she welcomed his anger.
    She fingered the daggers at her hips and smiled at him.
     
    Reed had the urge to throttle his wife. He’d never wanted to harm a woman as much. The idea kept crossing his mind whenever she was in his presence. That merely angered him more.
    But what was more concerning was how looking at her, the way she tossed her head and smiled, had his cock hardening faster than a naked wench with her thighs spread wide. He wanted her. Again. And again.
    Her gown outlined the shape of her figure, hips he’d grasped hard while sinking his cock deep inside her. The swell of her breasts was visible and he wanted to reach out and caress her silk flesh, yank down her gown and roll her nipples between his teeth and tongue.
    How could she do this to him? He’d barely known her more than a day. And yet she’d completely captivated him, taken over his mind. He’d crawl through the marshes for another taste of her.
    A tempting idea sparked in his mind. “Want a go, my lady?”
    Her nose crinkled, as did her brow. A slight pink tint covered her cheeks. “Go at what?”
    Reed had an idea of what she was thinking. Desire filled her eyes, and her blush deepened. He was going to have fun with that. “At me.” He watched in fascination as the column of her throat bobbed and her eyes widened.
    “What?” she whispered.
    Ah, the little minx had been thinking about him in bed. “A sword fight, lass. Why, what were ye thinking?”
    Taking a step back, she shook her head, her blush deepening. “I had no idea what ye meant.” With the abrupt way she ended, he had a feeling she wanted to add some derogatory remark but stopped herself.
    “Well? Do ye?” He lifted an abandoned sword from the ground and tossed it to her, surprised with the effortless speed at which she reached out with both hands to grasp the hilt.
    Despite its weight, she caught it and held it at a perfect arch, her feet separating, one in front of the other. Her form was perfect.
    He tilted his head to study her. “Ye’ve done this before.”
    She winked, showing the saucier side that attracted him. “Ye’ll have to find out.”
    A crowd gathered around them, the men eager to see what was unfolding. The laird had never fought a woman before and now he would take a sword to his wife. Plenty of whispers could be heard of how the lass held her sword in perfect formation. How she must have much strength to hold the weapon up as she did. All of what they said brought a smile of pride to Reed’s lips. His woman was a warrior.
    “So be it.” He pulled the claymore from the scabbard on his back and held it, sharpened point toward her.
    They circled, neither making a move for the space of several minutes. Their eyes latched on to one another, intense, studying each other’s moves.
    Finally, Sorcha said, “Are ye afraid, husband?”
    “Nay.”
    “Then why have ye not made a move?”
    “I could ask ye the same thing.”
    She laughed, tilting her head back slightly. She was a goddess. The sight took his breath away—and in that moment she launched forward, her sword hitting his with a force he did not expect. He parried, striking back, but not with all of his power. This was a game meant to be fun, not to harm.
    She twirled around in an impressive move and struck again. He stepped back with the power of her blow. The sound of metal clanging reverberated in the air. Some of the clan came from within the walls and fields to watch the laird and lady. The buzzing of his men’s chatter