The Highlander's Accidental Marriage (Marriage Mart Mayhem) Read Online Free PDF

shifted to rest one booted foot on his opposite knee. “I don’t understand it myself. It seems out of mum and da’s six bairns, I was blessed—or cursed—with unusual intelligence.” He looked out the window at the slowly lightening sky. “Ever since I can remember, I’ve had this thirst for knowledge. I taught myself to read by mimicking my sisters. When I outgrew the castle tutor, da hired a special one for me. He took me as far as he could and then told my parents I was ready for university.”
    “How old were you?”
    “Thirteen years,” he said wryly.
    “That explains how you were able to calculate in your head our arrival at Bedlay.” She tilted her head, examining him, trying to understand this man who had captivated her so. “How did it feel?”
    He apparently knew exactly what she had asked. “Frightening at times. There were occasions when I wanted to push away all the numbers and words racing around my brain and just tend the sheep with my brothers.” He shrugged. “It never worked.”
    “And what do you teach?”
    “Classical archeology with a focus on Ancient Rome.”
    He chuckled as she slowly repeated the words. “ Ach , lass. Ye say it like there’s something nasty on yer tongue.”
    “I don’t mean to. I guess it’s that I don’t really know what ‘classical archeology’ is.”
    “According to how the books read, classical archeology is the study of civilizations of the Mediterranean, as well as the Ancient Greek and Roman cultures.”
    “That is indeed a mouthful, Professor.”
    He smiled slowly. “Braeden.”
    Once more, heat rose to her face as his deep voice rolled over her, making it even worse when he grinned. Apparently, the light was enough now that he could see her face quite well. Something tickled her belly when he said his name. Soft and low, as if he murmured into her ear in the dark.
    What in heaven’s name is wrong with me?

    W hat the devil is wrong with me? Braeden was having a difficult time keeping his eyes off Sarah. Not that it was an easy chore, anyway, since they sat only a few feet from each other. But every expression on her lovely face had him wanting to tug her across the space and plop her onto his lap.
    Now that he’d been subjected to several of her regal looks and highborn comments, he couldn’t believe that at their first meeting he had thought she was a maid. Though, all that comforting she’d been doing with the other woman when they had come upon them on the road had certainly cast her in that light. Sarah was a wee bonny lass, but a strong woman. No swooning and tears for her.
    Most lasses who had been through what she’d suffered—a serious accident, terrible weather, and a loss of her servants and carriage—would have taken to their beds for a week. Yet the hummingbird had cajoled him into escorting them to Bedlay Castle, bullied her maid into getting everything done in a timely manner, and had tried very hard to take control of the entire journey. She was certainly a lass to admire.
    And admire her he did. Her tiny form displayed enough womanly curves that there was no question as to her being a lass full grown. Her soft mouth begged to be covered by a man who knew what he was about and ready to teach her the art of kissing. Right now she studied him under thick eyelashes with bright eyes that danced with intelligence and humor. Aye, Lady Sarah was a sight to behold.
    And it would be wise to use his intelligence to avoid any further involvement with her. He had his plans all set. A lass was not part of the design.
    “How did you become interested in archeology?”
    Glad to be able to focus on his work instead of Sarah, he said, “From the time I was a lad I enjoyed visiting the crumbling ruins of castles and keeps scattered throughout the Highlands. When my da had the time—which was rare—he would take me miles and miles from home to investigate some remnants of a clan’s home.”
    “Are there so many?”
    “Aye.” His