Sword of the Highlander Read Free Page A

shakily, “the game is over. Carlotta set me up for this, didn’t she? She doesn’t think I need to be faithful to Aubrey.”
    “Who is Aubrey?”
    “My fiancé. The man I plan to marry.”
    The Highlander stepped back. “Ye are betrothed?”
    “Yes. Just a few weeks ago.” Warily, she moved along the counter away from him. “So, you see, I cannot have sex—go to bed—with you. Carlotta loves practical jokes. You know, I almost believed you for a moment earlier. Just tell me the truth and we’ll laugh about all of this.”
    “I told ye, lass. I dinna ken any Carlotta.”
    A hysterical bubble formed in Cassidy’s throat. “Look. A joke is a joke. You’re a very good actor. Really.”
    Niall looked affronted. “Ye think me to be a jester?”
    “No!” The thought of this huge, muscle-bound man in striped silk-pantalets with a buffoonish cap on his head almost sent her over the edge again, but the thunderous look on his face sobered her. “You can’t be from the year 1040. It’s not possible.”
    He sighed. “I dinna know how it happened. But if ye show me the sword, mayhap I could go back.” His voice softened seductively. “Unlock the cabinet, lass.”
    She fingered her jean’s pocket and then dropped her hand quickly, but not before his predatory gaze followed her movement. He looked over the cut of her jeans appreciatively and, for once, Cassidy wished she were wearing a dress. A big, sloppy tent-dress. Her jeans outlined her figure and that fact clearly wasn’t lost on Niall.
    “Is the key in that wee pocket?”
    Cassidy backed away from him and he took a step toward her. “I can’t let you have the sword. It isn’t mine.”
    “Dinna fash.” Niall touched his sporran. “I have coin enough to pay.” He moved closer and held out his hand. “Give me the key.”
    “No.” She took two more steps back and bumped into the wall by the door jam.
    Niall smiled and moved with feline speed, blocking her before she could get through the door. “Ye have one last chance to give me the key, lass, or I take it.”
    She could feel his body heat and his scent filled her nostrils. She tried to duck under his arm, but he caught her, spinning her around, pressing her up against him and then she felt his hand, sliding down her belly. She tried to push him away, but might as well have tried to move a brick wall.
    His breath was soft and hot in her ear. “Dinna struggle so. I willna hurt ye.” His fingers slid into her pocket and pulled out the key. “I seek only this.”
    Niall moved away so abruptly that Cassidy actually felt cold. Then she scurried after him, but he was already opening the cabinet.
    He laid the box on the table and lifted out the sword as though it weighed no more than a child’s plastic one. He held it up to the light, the ruby catching fire like the rays of a sunset and then he lowered it, his fingers tracing the runes along the handle.
    “ Mac an Luinne ,” he whispered reverently. “Ye have been found.”
    “What did you call it?” Cassidy asked.
    “’Tis its name.” Niall let his fingertips trace along the blade. “Do ye truly not ken what ye have here?”
    Cassidy shook her head. “The sword only arrived this afternoon.” Then, her curiosity and love of history overcame her need for caution, at least for the moment. “I know the sword of the Great Féinn was supposedly magical, but what do you know about it?”
    “The MacChumail was the son of the Fianna leader, his maithar the daughter of a druid. When he was still a wee lad, his da was killed and he swore revenge, but the soldiers laughed and wouldna follow him. He spent many years training in the secrecy of the forests of Kintyre under the warrior woman, Liath.”
    “Someone like the Celtic queen, Boudicca?” Cassidy’s interest was totally engaged.
    Niall shrugged. “Mayhap they were one and the same. Sithee, while hunting one day, a faerie came upon him and led him to her da, a smith, who was working a sword