Wicked Highlander Read Online Free PDF Page A

no more than a child at first glance. Until one looked at her chest and saw the curves of breasts, full and pert.
    Her gown was of common material, but the gold bands that held her braids told him she was much more than she seemed. As all Druids were.
    Unable to help himself, he leaned forward and inhaled her scent again. She smelled so good he almost thought he was back at his castle standing on the cliffs with the sea wind ruffling his hair and the spray of the waves washing over him.
    Quinn’s gaze raked her face. Her long, sooty lashes rested against her cheeks, and dark brows arched softly above her eyes. He was curious to know what color her eyes were, to see if they were as exotic as the rest of her.
    She had high cheekbones, a small, pert nose, and a mouth that begged to be kissed. His balls clenched, desire making his breathing harsh. He touched a finger to her lips before he could think better of it. They were so soft, so luscious he almost leaned down to taste them.
    To savor. To enjoy. To claim.
    Get a hold of yourself!
    Quinn fisted his hand and moved it into his lap as his blood quickened and rushed to his cock. But he couldn’t tear his gaze from her. The steady rise and fall of her chest drew his eyes. He wanted to tear her gown from her and see her body in all its naked glory.
    To feast his gaze upon her creamy skin, her lush curves. To caress. To hold. To embrace.
    â€œHoly Hell,” he ground out as a wave of lust swallowed him.
    It wasn’t as if he had remained celibate like Fallon and Lucan. Nay, Quinn had given in to his body’s urging when he could deny it no longer. His brothers never knew when he had left the castle. With some part of his god always showing, Quinn had left at night, keeping to the shadows and darkness.
    But he had never wanted a woman like he wanted to touch, to taste…to feel the Druid beside him.
    The woman issued a long, low moan that made Quinnyank his gaze to her face and bite back a groan of his own. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Arran and the twins also glance her way.
    She lifted a shaky hand and touched her forehead, her breath hitching as the pain registered in her mind.
    â€œDon’t move,” he whispered in warning of the pain that was to come.

Three
    â€œYou’ve got a rather nasty bump on the back of your head, and I think your ribs are bruised.”
    Marcail stilled at the sound of the deep, rich voice that sliced through her like the mist that came down from the mountains. A shiver raked her body that had nothing to do with the cool temperatures that surrounded her.
    For that short moment, she forgot the throbbing of her head and how it hurt to breathe. All she could think about was who belonged to such a sensual, commanding voice.
    And did she dare find out?
    With each pounding inside her head she recalled everything that had happened over the past week, beginning with her running through the forest and being cornered by Dunmore and the wyrran. Then she had been brought to Deirdre and thrown into the Pit.
    She remembered being surrounded by Warriors before something big and black leapt on top of her. She sucked in a sharp breath and instantly regretted it as the ache exploded in her chest.
    â€œEasy.”
    The same seductive, smooth voice surrounded her once more; his tone left her feeling safe and protected.It was a ruse, she knew, but in her current condition there was nothing she could do about it.
    Marcail licked her lips, then bit back a moan as that simple movement caused pain to burst in her head once more. She laid there a moment thinking she heard what sounded like a chant. The more she tried to listen to it, the faster it faded until there was nothing.
    Any moment she expected her head to explode from the pain. When nothing happened, she cracked open an eye to see she was surrounded by darkness. She hated the dark because of what it represented—evil. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and concentrated on