The Highlander's Bride Read Online Free PDF

Cole. He looked to be the oldest of the brothers, besides Conor.
    “Where is home, Cole?” she tested to see how he reacted to her familiarity.
    “Far from England,” he replied directly. It was obvious that, while he didn’t want to see her hurt, he was still not liking the idea of Laurel joining them on their travels. She rose cautiously and walked over to stand next to him. She did not look at him directly but stared straight ahead, mimicking Cole’s cool stance.
    “If you think it best I leave, Cole, I will.”
    Her directness startled him. She smelled of flowers, and he could not deny her loveliness. She was by far the most bonnie lass he had ever seen. And the most abused. Despite his hatred for all things English, even he could not deny her help and leave her without protection.
    “No, milady. I would not wish anyone to live with a Douglass.”
    “Douglass? Why would I ever return there?” she asked loudly enough for the others to overhear.
    “Is that not where you’re from, milady? We saw you pale at the mention of their name this morning, and we were camping fairly close to their border,” Craig interjected.
    Laurel returned to Clyde’s side and sat down again. “No, I am not from anywhere near those hateful people.”
    Laurel tried to discourage conversation about her origins by pretending to concentrate on her hair. She had managed to free most of the major tangles. Spying a loose piece of lace on her torn sleeve, she pulled it completely free and attempted to tie her hair back. Yet, every time she reached to bind it, she retracted in pain.
    Conor saw Hamish, who had been hovering nearby, go to help her. Swiftly, Conor interrupted his guard, took the lace ribbon from Laurel’s hands, and hastily tied back her hair.
    Though he tried to be quick, the feel of her soft locks and their clean smell of flowers were unnerving to his senses. Even with her hair pulled high on her head, the waves of curls still reached her lower back. He would be tormented for the rest of his days because he had touched such maddening beauty.
    Conor then moved to the outskirts of the campsite as if to check the perimeter. He needed to regain control of his rising desire to know what it would be like to feel her beneath him, moaning his name.
    Hamish followed. “I need to know your intentions, laird.”
    Conor nodded. He recognized his guard’s desire for Laurel. He also realized that, while he may be fighting his own need for her, he could not endure knowing Laurel was with another man.
    “She’s mine.”
    Hamish digested this. He was unsure of how to proceed. Conor was his laird and had his loyalty in all things. But Hamish also wanted to make sure that his laird was serious about Laurel and, if not, he wanted it to be known that he was.
    “Does she know this?”
    “It does not matter.”
    “Do you know what happened? What if she is married?”
    “She is not.” Conor’s voice was hard and inflexible.
    Hamish was not satisfied. “What of her family? Will they be looking for her? What will you tell them?”
    “What would you tell them, Hamish?” Conor countered, stopping to look his guardsman in the eye. Hamish did not flinch under the direct questioning glare.
    “I would tell them that she would never be hurt again. That I would protect and support her as long as there was breath in my body.”
    Conor turned back to the path and continued walking. “I would tell them the same.” With that, Conor left Hamish and returned to the group.
     
    Laurel was running. She was gasping for air and, with each breath, a knife-like pain sliced through her side. She pushed herself harder, faster. Something evil, dark with black eyes, was in pursuit and if it caught her, everyone she loved would die. Somehow she knew the terrifying presence would never stop hunting her. Just as she was about to collapse from exhaustion, someone, large and faceless, lifted her and carried her high above the trees towards majestic blue-gray