Highlander Unbroken (Highland Adventure Book 8) Read Online Free PDF Page B

secretly treacherous. One such charming lass had lured him to destroy his life. He could never trust a woman again. Of a certainty, he would have to marry and sire an heir, but beyond that he wanted naught to do with a woman. He would not marry for love. In a year or two, he would start searching for an amenable lass from a strong clan he could count as an ally. The elders would have their opinion on the matter. But Neacal was certainly not ready now. First, he had to train the men and strengthen their defenses.
    ***
    Though she would've preferred to take a walk along the loch's shore in the fresh air, Anna was unsure how safe it would be to venture outside the castle walls alone. Instead, she had slipped onto the castle's ramparts while the men practiced in the bailey. They went at it hard from morn 'til gloaming, their chief demanding much of them.
    Suppertime was nigh. The sword clangs and men's shouts were diminishing now.
    "Your singing is exquisite," a deep male voice said behind her.
    Anna jumped and spun to find the chief waiting there. Good heavens! She bobbed a curtsy. "M'laird."
    His cool blue eyes assessed her in a neutral manner—he neither smiled nor frowned. He simply appeared… curious. She was certain her own expression was curious as well, for he was a highly intriguing man. The pink scar that marred one side of his face didn't bother her, for her sister had a similar, though smaller, scar upon her face. The servants had murmured he'd received it when he'd been tortured.
    The chief observed her closely, making Anna's stomach knot. Did he recognize her? She had never met him before—that much she knew. Did he suspect she was on the run? The intensity of his blue-flame gaze unsettled her every time she caught his attention directed her way, which was often. He never smiled, winked, or gave any indication he was flirting. His gaze was almost resentful at times as if she annoyed him somehow. Maybe he was lying and indeed hated her singing.
    Last evening, during the meal, he had shoved back from the table and strode from the room during her song. Only the clan's enthusiasm, and their multiple requests, had kept her going.
    "Calm yourself. I'm not the devil they make me out to be," he said with a wry smirk.
    He knew the things they said about him? "They?" she asked, pretending she didn't know what he was talking about.
    "Aye, the servants and some of the clansmen."
    Finding it beyond difficult to hold his potent gaze, she lowered hers. Although he was a most attractive man, she knew naught about him, except what his clansmen whispered about madness, and what she'd seen him do in the bailey during practice. Could he lose his grip on his sanity and toss her from the ramparts? Icy fear snaked through her. She walked around him. "I should be getting back and preparing for the evening's entertainment."
    "I'm glad you and the other minstrels came." He moved to the waist high wall and gazed out over the loch. "I've never heard music so… enchanting."
    She paused, staring at the back of his head, the shiny dark hair that brushed his wide shoulders. The massive brown wolfhound crept close to his leg and sat down. The chief's hand idly rubbed the dog's furry head as they both stared out over the water into the colorful sunset.
    He turned, his intense blue gaze pinning her to the spot.
    She stared at the dog, trying to remember what he'd said. Oh… that their music was enchanting. "I thank you, m'laird. I'm glad we can offer you and your people a pleasant entertainment."
    "'Tis more than that," he murmured. "I didn't realize how much I missed music."
    She frowned. "No one else here plays?"
    "Aye, here at the castle, but… I was away for a while."
    "I see," she said, though she didn't see at all. Where would he have gone that had no music? Near everyone played music or sang, skilled or not. She dared another glance at him and was struck dumb by the glimpse of anguish she witnessed in his eyes. Her own pain reflected