To Love a Highlander Read Free

the land were filling their bellies with rich victuals and too much ale. The feasting had reached a pitchthat dulled wits and blurred vision, even robbing some men of their dignity. More than one lofty slumped in a drunken stupor, babbling nonsense. Others sprawled face-first across the tables, heads on their arms as they slept, snoring loudly, oblivious to the pandemonium.
    Not averse to taking advantage, Sorley strode into the circle of dancing nobles.
    He made straight for the whirling, laughing-eyed temptress, encouraged when she stopped dancing at his approach. That she didn’t bother to cover her breasts emboldened him all the more.
    Seldom had he seen such perfection.
    Her dark, thrusting nipples sent heat flashing through him, setting him like stone. His hands itched to reach for her, to plump and squeeze her full, lush bosom. He burned to touch her nipples, run his thumbs in circles around them, and then pluck them sweetly.
    Truth was he wanted to devour her whole.
    To that end, he bowed low, giving her his most practiced smile.
    “One dance, fair lass.” He deepened the smile as he straightened, knew his dimples would flash, delighting her. He held out his hands, confident. “I shall be the most envied lad in the hall.”
    “Think you?” She lifted a brow. Her tone was cold, her dark eyes chilling as she pulled up her gown, hiding her nakedness. “I say you are Sorley the bastard and greatly mistaken.”
    She gave him a tight, icy smile. “Be glad the King is away or I’d have him punish you for your impertinence.
    “I may yet.” She narrowed her eyes, looking at him as if he were a speck of mud on her shoe.
    Sorley tried to speak, but words wouldn’t come. His throat had closed, his mouth gone dry. The maid tossed her head, shaking back her rippling, raven curls before she sailed away into the throng, leaving him to stare after her.
    Mortification sluiced through him.
    The hall grayed, blurring around him. A loud buzzing filled his ears and a terrible, flaming heat raced up his neck, branding his cheeks. From a great distance, or so it seemed, he caught a glimpse of Roag, Andrew, and Caelan, gaping at him. The pity on their faces made him want to sink into the floor.
    He swallowed hard, his heart hammering in shame.
    Never had he been so humiliated.
    Worse, he still stood with his hands extended. He couldn’t lower his arms. They felt frozen, stiff and immoveable. Everything careened around him. The dancers and strutting pipers, the hurrying servants, and even the castle dogs, they all blended into a great whir, making him dizzy.
    He blinked, certain he was about to die, when an angel appeared out of the spinning chaos and came forward to take his outstretched hands.
    A hush fell over the hall, a stillness so loud it was deafening. Everyone turned to stare at Sorley and the startling beauty who gripped his hands so demonstratively. As fair and bright as the other lass had been dark, she was the most exquisite maid he’d ever seen. Her large blue eyes sparkled like sapphires. And her hair shone red-gold in the torchlight, her braids falling below her waist. Unquestionably of high birth, she wore amethyst silk and jewels, her delicate rose perfume scenting the air around her.
    “I will dance with you.” She laced her fingers with his, squeezing lightly. “If it pleases you?”
    Sorley nodded, not trusting himself to speak. She looked at him with her great blue eyes, holding his gaze as if partnering him in the dance was the most natural thing for her to do.
    He was certain he’d never seen her before.
    Her accent told him why.
    She spoke with a soft and pleasing lilt, the musicalsweetness of the Highlands flowing in her voice. He also noted that her eyes weren’t just blue, but lavender-blue. And despite the brightness of her hair and her fair, creamy skin, she was graced with exceptionally long, black eyelashes. Though still tender in years, likely close to his own age, she already possessed the