Plaid to the Bone Read Online Free PDF

only parent left to her, and the one she never seemed able to satisfy.
    Until she’d agreed to wed and then murder the laird of Bonniebroch.
    Adam Cameron’s mouth slanted over hers. The kiss was a question and he made her body answer. A hot rush of something dark and delicious warmed her belly.
    Damn the man. She shouldn’t have given him a glimpse into her secret place by the sea. She shouldn’t have told him about the selkies. She shouldn’t let his breath take up residence in her body and wrap itself around her insides.
    She’d come to Bonniebroch to do the man to death. She couldn’t afford to let honeyed kisses or that strange warmth pooling between her legs distract her.
    Cait released the shirt she’d bunched in her fists and shoved against his chest with all her might.
    Adam kissed her lips once more, a gentle probing touch, and pulled back, but not nearly far enough. He cupped her cheek, running a thumb over her lips. Cait was distressed to discover she was trembling and not from cold.
    “Someday,” he said, his tone soft and rough at the same time, “we’ll go north and ye’ll show me this place where ye waited for your selkie.”
    Cait pulled her knees to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. She didn’t trust her voice. She didn’t know how to say what she was thinking even if she could make a sound.
    No, we won’t go north. Ye’ll be the only one going anywhere, Adam Cameron. I mean to see ye straight to hell. I have to. I swore an oath on my own blood. ’Tis my bounden duty.
    He ran a hand over the crown of her head, a tender gesture. Almost more intimate than their kiss had been. It made her want to scream.
    “I’ll see ye at the supper then.” He stood, and she felt the pressure of his eyes on her even though she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “We’ll be good for each other, Cait Grant. Ye’ll see. I’ll do even better by ye than your selkie man might have. Ye have my word.”
    Cait didn’t glance his way until she heard the door latch behind him. She stared unmoving after him then, even though the water was getting colder by the minute.
    “I tried to warn ye, Adam Cameron,” she said through chattering teeth. “A selkie tale always ends badly.”

Chapter 4

    “When a man plays at magic, it leaves a mark.
    Perhaps not one clearly visible to most observers, but certainly discernible enough so that another practitioner can recognize his fellow dabblers.
    So far the household that bides in Bonniebroch seems to be clean. All except that Morgan MacRath who arrived with Mistress Grant. Invisible tendrils as long as his arms trail behind him and a spider’s web of spells encircles his head.”

    From the journal of Callum Farquhar,
explorer, imbiber, and touched by just enough
magic to make a body wonder what I’m up to.

    Callum Farquhar suspected the quality of Bonniebroch’s wine cellar was spectacular. The butler poured Rheinish wine into the dear Frankish goblets that graced the table on the dais reserved for the laird and his lady. The pale liquid glimmered in the torchlight as if it were living gold.
    Everyone else in the hall was served ale. It was rich, dark, and yeasty, but it wasn’t wine.
    The laird had seemed to forget all about Farquhar. Callum didn’t really blame him, given that Lord Bonniebroch had his prospective bride to attend.
    The board at Bonniebroch was rippingly fine. Certainly better than the tavern fare he’d endured on his way to the castle and infinitely better than the rough bread he’d begged at crofters’ cottages when his traveling money ran out.
    Farquhar kept half an eye on his new employer while he ate, noting that the laird seemed to be doing everything possible to please the lady. Adam leaned toward Cait and spoke softly enough so no one could overhear them through the din of a myriad other conversations. The laird made sure her goblet stayed filled and offered her the choicest tidbits from his own trencher.
    Mistress Grant didn’t