Highlander's Prize Read Online Free PDF

warm. Her escort unbuttoned their doublets and oversleeves, grinning as the wind flapped their shirtsleeves.
    Broen MacNicols wasn’t like any of her noble kin. He didn’t ride in the center of his men but took the high ground and then pushed his stallion to move faster than the rest of them so he might appear on the opposite side of a gorge. He was always in motion, even when he pulled his mount up to give the huge beast a moment of rest. In those brief times, his eyes moved constantly. His profile was harsh, his jaw square, and his cheekbones high. Every winter tale she’d ever heard of wild Scotsmen rose from her memory to go along with the sight of him sitting so confidently with his knees peeking from beneath the edge of his kilt.
    Highlanders, actually. The Lowland Scots were more like the English. Highlanders were different. When they came down to fight, history changed.
    Maybe she was exactly where she needed to be. It was a dangerous idea, but one that tantalized her too. She had no way of knowing if her situation was improving or not. The only thing that was clear was that Broen pushed them north the entire day; even sunset didn’t stop him. When he did call a halt to their journey, the moon was fully risen, and Clarrisa slid from the back of her mare gratefully. Her legs trembled, and every joint ached, but she stomped at the ground to restore her circulation.
    Her mare eagerly left her to go and drink from the nearby river. All the horses surged toward the water, many of them flicking their tails.
    Clarrisa turned in the opposite direction.
    “Now where do ye think ye’re heading?”
    She jumped and stumbled back a pace. “You needn’t appear in my path so suddenly.”
    Broen tilted his head to one side. “So are ye saying I should make sure ye see me on me way to head ye off?” He propped his hands on his hips. “That’s something ye English have been wishing for a long time, but we Highlanders will never bow to yer desire to know exactly what we’re about.”
    The suspicion in his tone threatened to send her temper flaring again, but the absurdity of having to explain her needs to him made her shake her head instead. “If you cannot understand why I might be set on seeking out some privacy after all day on the back of that mare, you must be as dull-witted as I’ve heard Highlanders are. Or do your women hike their skirts and relieve themselves among you?”
    His amusement evaporated, but she caught the hint of regret in his blue eyes, because many of his men were relieving themselves. He reached out and caught her upper arm to turn her away from the sight. “I am nae used to having women along, and for that, I owe ye an apology. Go on, but understand that keeping sight of ye is important. I suggest ye become accustomed to me company.”
    “When it snows during summer,” she muttered, too relieved to make her tone mild.
    He chuckled. “Ye might decide ye like me. Many a lass has done so…”
    There was a slim hint of heat in his voice now. She found the idea of his liking anything about her unsettling; a tingle raced down her spine at the thought, one she needed to kill quickly. “Well, I doubt I shall become one of them.”
    She hoped so, anyway, but the man walked in front of her once again. He was attractive in a way she’d never encountered before. The night seemed to fit him, the moonlight enhancing his rugged features.
    “You are simply not to my taste.”
    Liar…
    One golden eyebrow rose mockingly. “Now why would ye go and say something like that and dash me hopes that ye might lavish me with personal attention like some eastern harem laird?” His lips curved in a sensuous manner, sending a second jolt of sensation down her back. “Ye’re truly testing me, lass, for a Highlander enjoys a challenge more than just about anything.”
    He was grinning at her. She should have considered the expression arrogant, for it was, but instead of becoming annoyed, a warm tingle rippled across