MacLarens of Balmorie 05 - Once Upon A Time In Scotland Read Online Free PDF

Liam said as they crested the hill.

    The ruins spread out below, situated by the loch and taking Abbie's breath away. Her chest went a little tight. Talk about picture perfect with its square tower and crumbling walls. It was history, romance, beauty, and sadness all rolled into one.

    She'd read a little about its history in the brochure included in her welcome basket. It was the first MacLaren stronghold in these parts, and it was still in MacLaren hands.

    “It's a good thing you left the bike behind,” Liam said as he navigated down the steep slope, avoiding the muddy ruts in the road.

    “You're a MacLaren ,” Abbie said, watching him.

    “Aye.”

    “How long has your family lived here?”

    “Mine?' he asked, surprised.

    “Yeah.”

    He thought for a moment and gave a small shrug, eyes on the road. “Family has called Balmorie home since the sixteen hundreds.”

    “So they're connected to the ruins?”

    “Of course. My great grandfather many times over was brother to the laird. The castle,” he nodded toward the ruins, “has a fair interesting past.”

    He didn't elaborate and her curiosity got the better of her. “Go on...”

    “Well, let's see. There's been lost love, betrayal, murder, and—”

    Ooh . “Murder.”

    He chuckled. “Aye. A great, ghastly murder it was. Never solved. No one could figure out who kill the beautiful Lady Bree . Word has it she was bonny, kind, and well-loved by her clan.”

    “What happened to her?”

    Liam pulled off the road and parked the truck in the grass. “Pushed right off the tower. Some say she jumped because of a broken heart, but many dinna believe that theory since she was already hand-fasted to the man she loved.”

    “And that's all anyone knows?”

    With a nod, he turned off the truck and removed the key. The fact that his family had lived in the castle filled her with intrigue. To be able to trace your lineage back so far, to know your roots and to walk the same roads, see the same landscape as those before you was amazing. Of course—she thought with writer's glee—it could very well have been one of Liam's direct ancestors who pushed poor Bree off the tower.

    The delicious feeling of mystery filled her, and she knew coming here for creative inspiration was the best idea she'd had in a long time.

    As Abbie gathered her bag and slung the strap over her shoulder, Liam was already out of the truck and walking around to her door. He opened it for her and she hopped down.

    “How's your foot?”

    And like last night, Abbie found herself trapped between the truck and six-foot-three inches of hot Scottish Highlander.

    And cue the butterflies .

    Swallowing the lump in her throat, she managed to answer, “Good.” And then, “I'm fine here by myself. I'm sure you have stuff to do, so...” With that, she moved away from the truck as Liam shut the door, then turned to face her, his eyes narrowing.

    “I dinna have much to do today. Figured you might like a tour.” His gaze shifted to the stones. “That auld pile has many a tale to tell, and I ken them all.”

    The small quirk of his lips made her wonder if he was playing her or, more specifically, playing on her interest in all things mysterious. Probably both. When the quirk drew into a crooked grin, she knew she had her answer. Her insides tingled and came alive. “Come on, Murphy,” he added. “I willna bite. Unless you want me to.”

    Her eyes rolled and man she wanted to smile, to flirt, to throw her good sense right out the window and spend the day ogling him and the castle. He was so damn sexy standing there with his hands in his pockets grinning at her. When she didn't move, he walked past her, saying in a deep accent, “Allow me ta show ye my history.”

    The whole deepening his accent thing was purely for her benefit. He probably knew it made the tourists swoon, and she had to wonder how many tourist notches he had on his bed post.

    Abbie watched him stroll past her and