Highland Heat Read Free

shoved away from Quinton.
    Enough of the nuns had made it into the yard now, allowing her to step back from him, but he took the opportunity to stroke her back and sides as she moved, his hands open, the fingers sliding over her curves with unmistakable experience. There was a flicker of enjoyment in his eyes, which irritated her, because she discovered that she liked knowing he found her body pleasing.
    Another betrayal from her flesh…
    “What promises I make are none of yer concern, Laird Cameron. I live here, so ye’ll be keeping yer hands off me.”
    “Is that a fact, Deirdre Chattan? Ye are nae a sister with that thick hair still long enough to cover a man’s chest. Ye’re a woman who is still searching for her place. Maybe ye have found that today.”
    She snarled beneath her breath, “Ye’re a Blackguard to suggest such a thing while standing on holy ground.” It was a curse, but she didn’t care if he cuffed her for daring to insult his noble person. She tossed her head in the face of his displeasure. “Just because ye think me a fallen woman does nae give ye the right to touch me in plain sight of others. I took a lover because he promised me his name. I was nae a whore for hire.”
    “I never labeled ye such a thing, Deirdre. Ye might be surprised to learn what I think of a woman who is bold enough to follow her desires instead of cowering in front of those who tell her what to do.”
    There was a hint of approval in his tone, but she forced herself to ignore it. The last time she’d followed such impulses, she had disgraced herself and her clan.
    “Stop using my name. We are nae familiar with each other. One stolen kiss does nae make ye anything more than a man I loathe.”
    “Careful, lass, I think I enjoy the sound of that challenge more than either of us should.” His attention settled on the fabric covering her hair.
    She gasped and then sputtered, because she didn’t care for how weak sounding her response was. “Have ye no honor?”
    She was insulting him now, and her attack didn’t miss its mark.
    He stiffened and hooked his hands into his wide belt. The thick leather circled his waist, binding the pleats of his kilt in place. Above his left shoulder, the pommel of his sword gained her attention.
    “Weapons are forbidden inside the sanctuary.”
    He frowned. “So are cursing and lying, Deirdre Chattan.”
    His voice dipped low as he spoke her name, and there was a challenge lurking in his eyes that sent a quiver down the backs of her legs. She decided to focus on why the man was there so she might see him on his way that much faster.
    “No one lied to ye here, Laird Cameron. Ye assume the queen is here, but ye never asked.”
    His knuckles began to turn white. It was an odd little hint at what the man was truly feeling. She certainly couldn’t gain much by looking at his face, for he was showing her nothing but a stone-solid mask.
    “I am seeking Joan Beaufort, queen of Scotland.” He spoke through gritted teeth, betraying his frustration. “Is she here?”
    A few of his men stood near his back. They tilted their heads so they might watch her face and gauge her true reaction to their laird’s question. Deirdre scoffed at him. “Yer men are already swarming through the sanctuary. It’s too late to ask now.”
    She could hear the muffled protests of the priests and the nuns who had been in the inner chambers of the abbey. Out in the yard, there was the stomping of the horses and the conversation of the members of the holy order as they tried to comfort each other.
    Quinton snorted. “But ye did nae answer the question, which makes me suspicious of ye.”
    Deirdre glared at the man responsible for shattering the peace. “Ye and yer men are acting like hell’s army.”
    He should have been insulted. Instead he chuckled. “If I were a Viking, I’d no have allowed ye out of me arms quite so quickly. A true Norseman ravishes first and takes the plunder after he has sated his