The Wolf and the Highlander (Highland Wishes) Read Online Free PDF Page A

the same about you. We can discuss it later. For now, we have to fly.” He offered her his hand.
    She stared at it. Then she swallowed and took it.
    At her touch, his chest gave an unsettling lurch. He ignored it and tugged her to her feet.
    She got them under her with difficulty. A wince pulled taut her lovely mouth.
    “ Look at that crippled gait,” the soldier had said.
    “You’re wounded.” He scooped her into his arms. With her bird-light bones, she weighed next to nothing.
    She swatted his chest. “Put me down, you brute! I can walk.”
    “But can you run?”
    She glared at him. It was answer enough. He tucked her close to his chest and sped toward the border.
    “You mentioned there are more of them,” the woman said, winding an arm around his neck and peering over his shoulder. A thrill shot through him at the trusting gesture. He almost lost his footing. “How many more?” Her voice was steel. Brave lady.
    “I don’t plan to find out.”

Chapter 3
     
    If Anya ever saw that blasted box again, she was going to chop it into a million bits. Laird Steafan hadn’t been able to manage it, but there was no force on Earth as powerful as an irate Highland lass. How dare that bloody thing interfere with her plans to face her laird and pay for her sins? How dare it thrust its magic upon her and cast her into a world of great mottled boars and enormous naked men?
    Och, make that a single enormous naked man. The other two she’d seen had been naked but not enormous. That hadn’t made them any less terrifying when they’d been trying to rape her.
    The one now running through the forest at alarming speed while cradling her in the brawniest pair of arms she’d ever seen ought to terrify her too. He clearly wasn’t human. Not with those bulky teeth and animal eyes , those pointed fingernails and that luxurious body hair covering his chest and stomach and growing thick and tempting between his legs. But for some reason she wasn’t afraid. Mayhap ’twas the way the skin of his cheeks above his thick black beard had turned a shy shade of pink when she’d noticed his cock-stand. Or the way his eyes had crinkled at the corners when she’d asked how many men might be after them. Or the way his scent of pine and clean, dusty dog made her think of home and happiness and safety.
    Or mayhap she was merely addled from when the other man had hit her in the head. Och, it felt like someone had flayed her skull open upon the blacksmith’s anvil and pounded away at it with the Devil’s own hammer.
    Furthermore, it seemed to be morning wherever here happened to be, yet to her weary bones and heavy eyelids, it felt like the middle of the night. The rocking motion of the man’s loping stride tempted her toward slumber. A great yawn stretched her mouth. After it passed, she asked, “Where are you taking me?”
    “To my home.”
    Such guileless eyes. She could hardly look away from their captivating color. A brown as bright and pure as hardened tree sap glinting in the sun.
    Content he hadn’t said, “torture chamber” or “slave house,” she rested her cheek on his firm shoulder and let sleep claim her.
    A change in the soothing rocking motion woke her. She opened her eyes to bright sunlight. Her headache assaulted her afresh, as did other aches and pains, too numerous to count. But she didn’t fash about any of that. Somat was wrong. She recognized this dip-rise-pause sort of walk. Her rescuer—or was he her captor?—was limping.
    While she’d been asleep, they’d passed into a narrow meadow of fluttering wheat-colored grass. He skirted the meadow, keeping close to the crumbling stone wall at the tree line. The sun kissed her face, but its warmth was a mere flicker of a candle compared to the raging bonfire of the man’s chest, which heaved with exertion and heated her through her dress and shift like a bed warmer. He’d been carrying her for what felt like hours. He’d slowed to a walk, but still, his arms