How to Abduct a Highland Lord Read Online Free PDF Page B

faint ray of hope warming her. The thought that she might not be alone, that maybe Jack might find a way out of this mess, slowed the flow of her tears bit by bit.
     
     Yet, though her crying lessened, Fiona didn’t move. She drank in the strength of Jack’s embrace, the warmth of his body. Her pain began to ease. Finally, her tears ceased, her body racked now by a deep hiccup.
     
     Jack rubbed his chin against her hair and said gruffly, “I mean it. I really hate it when women cry.”
     
     “So—so—do I.” She gulped.
     
     He sighed, his breath stirring the tendrils at her temples. “I am sorry about Callum.”
     
     The tenderness in Jack’s voice brought more tears to her eyes. She was a mess; red eyes, wet cheeks, and embarrassing hiccups. Suddenly self-conscious, she attempted to step out of Jack’s arms. “I need a handkerchief.”
     
     Jack’s embrace tightened, his hand rubbing up and down her back with comforting strokes. “I would give you my handkerchief, but someone has taken mine.”
     
     Fiona gave a watery chuckle. “I had Hamish change your clothes. You were wet, and I did not wish you to catch the ague.”
     
     “How thoughtful of you. Not many men who’ve been abducted and stripped can say they were so well tended.”
     
     She smiled against his damp shirt, her head resting on his muscled chest. Her ragged breaths gradually evened out, and a soft, intimate silence enveloped them.
     
     The steady beating of his heart, mixed with the scent of starch from his shirt, calmed her somehow. The rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek warmed her from head to toe, and she gave a contented sigh.
     
     Jack bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
     
     Fiona’s breath hung in her throat. The kiss was chaste, almost innocent, and incredibly intimate.
     
     “You’ve been through hell, haven’t you, love?”
     
     He’d called her “love.” Not “my love,” but just “love.” She wondered how many women he’d called that, and how many had felt their hearts flutter the way hers had.
     
     Though she’d wept against his shirt and basked in the comfort of his arms, the truth was that Jack Kincaid would have treated any other woman who’d melted into a weeping mass the same way. As he said, he couldn’t stand to see a woman cry.
     
     Fiona stepped out of Jack’s protective arms into the cold of the room, reaching for a towel from the washstand.
     
     She mopped her eyes, then blushed. “I didn’t mean to soak your shirt.”
     
     He glanced down at the large wet spot on his chest, a wry smile softening the hard line of his mouth. “I don’t know whose shirt this is, but you can take it up with them.”
     
     “It’s Dougal’s.”
     
     “Dougal’s? There’slace on the cuffs. Your brother would never wearlace. ”
     
     She gave a watery chuckle. “Dougal is a dandy now. You wouldn’t believe how all-the-crack he has become.”
     
     Jack looked down at her for a moment, his eyes dark and unfathomable. He reached out and twined a tendril of her hair about his finger. “This is a pretty mess.”
     
     “I know,” she said, wishing she could just disappear. Her hair was falling about her, and her nose was pink from crying. “This entire week has been a nightmare.”
     
     “I am sure it has.” He pursed his lips as he considered her. “Only desperation would have made you think of this harebrained plan.”
     
     She stiffened. “My plan may have its faults, but I thought this through. I have thought of nothing else for a week, night and day.”
     
     “There must be another way,” he insisted. “Why didn’t you tell someone of your brothers’ plans? Someone who could stop them?”
     
     “Who? Jack, my brothers can turn someone into a cinder merely by losing their tempers. Who would dare face them?”
     
     “One of my brothers didn’t seem to have any problem doing just that,” he retorted grimly.
     
     She stiffened, her