The Highlander's Conquest Read Free Page A

beneath his fingertips, reminding him in the most inopportune way that it’d been several weeks since his last encounter with a woman. And he loved his time with a willing, wicked lass or two.
    Aliah de Mowbray was born to tempt a man. Long, golden locks plaited down her back with a few wisps fluttering free around her face. Her skin was flawless, creamy perfection and he wanted to drip honey over the curve of her shoulders and lick it clean.
    But she was not for him. The lady was simply his latest mission. He never failed to complete a task. She didn’t even realize who he really was, not that he would tell her. Disguise was his best cover—and for his own safety. Being discovered as a Scot dressed as an English knight in the midst of England when the English King Edward was trying to rid Scotland of Scots was not in his best interests.
    Neither was meddling with an English maiden. Not when he had another agenda to tend to—one that he’d been bent on for over a decade. No lass, no matter how bonny, would get in the way of his objective and his retribution.
    “Och,” he grumbled , momentarily revealing his Scottish brogue and drawing her attention. Damn!
    C rystal blue eyes flashed on him. Intelligence radiated in her gaze and he realized she’d heard him .
    “Is aught amiss?” she asked. Her hands tightened on the reins, a small move, and ordinarily not something he would have noticed, but he’d been on high alert since entering enemy territory . One could never be too careful, and he’d slipped up.
    He needed to be steadfast, another mistake could prove fatal. He cursed himself. Nothing like this had ever happened before. He was far too careful, so what was it about this golden haired lass that made him lose sense?
    Blane was a master of disguise. H e’ d been traveling in and out of England under the guise of a merchant, farmer, lord or knight without anyone ever realizing he was Scots. He didn’t make mistakes. And yet, being in her company for no more than an hour , he was reduced to a drooling pup.
    He cleared his throat, hoping it would also help clear his mind. He was Blane Sutherland, brother to Laird Magnus Sutherland of the Highlands, and he was a master of deception . To Lady Aliah, he was Sir Blane of Yorkshire, her escort. If she found out the truth , she would never travel with him willingly. If his older brother Magnus or his younger brother Ronan found out about his misstep, they would tease him mercilessly.
    “All is well, my lady,” he said, making sure his English accent was strong. If she were to find out he was Scots now, she would run screaming. Likewise if she learned that the missive he carried was a forgery. Blane had never laid eyes on the Baron. He could be dead for all he knew, but Arbella had insisted on the ruse, stating that Aliah would never come otherwise.
    He tilted his head to study her, seeing the bow and arrows strapped to her back. Nay. She would not run. Shoot him was more like it. Best he ke ep on his toes and not make another idiotic mistake. Blane wasn’t sure if he was more worried about his brother’s anger at not bringing him the English lass, or Aliah’s sister Arbella ’s wrath if she found out that Blane had failed.
    They shared a connection Aliah was not even aware of. His brother, Laird Magnus Sutherland, had stolen Arbella from her intended and married her. The match seemed perfect but Aliah would never believe it. Not until she saw them together. Blane had barely believed it himself.
    “I thought I heard you mutter something.”
    Blane glanced toward his boots and made a pretense of wiping one vigorously on the barren ground of the courtyard. “Merely stepped in a bit of horse manure.”
    She wrinkled her nose, but asked no further questions.
    Blane signaled for his men to mount and did so himself, adjusting his cloak from beneath him. His men didn’t speak, under strict orders, unless they were with him in private . Gr unts , nods and shakes of their