Legacy of the Highlander
On a quest to discover his heritage and uncover the truths from his grandda's secretive past, Jamie Kincaid, King of the Kingdom Argyll of Zenith, finds himself in Scotland, a land as treacherous and beautiful as the lass he saves. The last thing he needs is his damnable honor that demands he protect the lass who fights him every step at every turn. But someone wants the past to remain buried, and as deceit becomes fast indistinguishable from truth, he will have to decide if trusting the lass is worth the price of his heart.
Dianh MacGregor is determined to prove her clan wrong. Just because she was cursed with a fulsome body and a comely visage does not mean that she'll be overcome with carnal cravings and stray from her path as their rightful chief. But one regretfully good deed in the form of protecting the fierce and sexy Scotsman from her aunt’s vicious scheme has her kidnapped and at the mercy of a man who ignites a dangerous desire in her, awakening an alarming awareness and longing in her that threatens to destroy all she's worked toward.
As they get closer to uncovering the sinister secret that binds both their pasts together, they are confronted with a decision that could destroy the fragile flame of love between them, or be their shield of armor against the tempestuous whirlwind of danger and deceit threatening to kill them both to keep a horrid past buried.
Read below for an excerpt from Legacy of the Highlander.
Even for a seasoned warrior like himself, the cold had finally long seeped into his bruised and weary bones. Jamie discovered a shiver attempting to sneak its way down his spine and fought it. He looked at the lass huddled in the far corner of the tiny cell where she’d remained since Margaret had left and felt a wave of sympathy. Her shoulders looked too slender for her frame, shaking noticeably from the deep-rooted chill. He never recalled Zenith getting his frigid without the benefit of snow to warm the ground.
He wanted to go over to her, wrap her in the warmth of his arms, and whisper words of comfort and assurance. Knowing she’d refuse him, he stayed rooted to his end of the cell, his tiresome mind filled with one too many thoughts of the direness of his situation. His hands itched for the opportunity to wrap themselves around one devious Margaret MacGregor’s neck. He didn’t know why Margaret seemed bent on destroying him but he knew the source of Margaret’s tangible hatred. Duncan. It was clear Margaret had a personal vendetta against his grandda, one that ran so deep it blinded her to all else. Hell, she’d even kill her own niece to satisfy her deadly need for vengeance.
And therein lay his problem. Dianh had somehow become his responsibility. He couldn’t leave her to the mercy of her evil aunt. It bothered him to think of Margaret’s intentions toward Dianh come the morning. Margaret would hand her over to another man to be used until her belly swelled with child. More frightening was the truth in Margaret’s words. If Dianh did get with child, he would never know the truth of the child’s parentage. There was the very real possibility she could be carrying his child already.
White-hot anger shot through him. He’d be damned if he passed off another man’s child as his. More so, if Dianh was with babe, he’d never allow his child to become a pawn in Margaret’s nefarious plans. Not on his beloved grandda’s grave.
He imagined her belly swollen with child and saw instead another woman blossoming with the joy of motherhood. A cold sweat broke out across his forehead, his breathing coming in shallow as the old fears returned. Dark memories locked deep in the recess of his mind surfaced. Alyssa’s pain-filled screams echoing though the hall. That last deafening, silencing cry. The blood . . .
A tempest whirled inside him. His hands fisted with a ferocity that made his veins stand out. The darkness of those long ago hours played out in his head, memories that he’d convinced himself he’d forgotten.
Dianh shifted, catching his attention, drawing him from the nightmares of the past. He took a deep breath to calm his thoughts and banished the memories back to that placed he’d locked them in along with his ability to love.
She stood on unsteady feet and slowly faced him. He’d expected tears on her face but was surprised to find her eyes dry. “We have to escape,” she said simply, her voice eerily calm.
Jamie unclenched his fists and frowned. There was an uneasy finality to her he didn’t like.
“When the guards come to take me away, you will take them down. Then you will use me as shield and hostage and free yourself.”
He lifted a brow at her. “And how do you expect me to take down three or four guards?”
“With this.” She lifted her skirt and pulled out a dagger from the garter of her hose. He got a flash of milk-white thighs. “I’ve seen you take down four men afore with naught but a dirk. You will do the same again.”
He was tempted by her suggestion. The saner part of him cautioned, “ ’Twill get us nowhere but in deeper trouble. As soon as I a kill a guard, more will rush in. I applaud your faith in me but I canna take down an entire army with my bare hands.”
For a moment, uncertainty formed worry lines across her forehead. He kicked himself for being the cause of that doubt.
Her shoulders squared and she lifted her chin. “That’s why you use me as hostage. The guards will be wary. They willna attempt anything rash. My aunt may be cruel, but she has no wish to see me dead. How else will she get an heir, as she has so pointed out? And I dinna think my kinsmen would do anything to jeopardize my life either.”
Jamie wasn’t as certain about her claims as she seemed to be, but he didn’t have the heart to dissuade her beliefs of her clan and Margaret. It was all too easy to picture Margaret ordering the guards to use all means necessary to prevent their escape, even killing Dianh to get to him.
He shook his head. “Nay, ’tis too dangerous. I will not risk you.”
He noticed her hand tighten on the dagger as her eyes flashed at him.
“You willna be risking me. Better I fight for my freedom and choose my own destiny than sit idly and accept the fate my aunt described. Dinna help me then, if you’re so afeared of getting hurt. I can take care of myself.”
He shot to his feet. “Those are dangerous words you throw at me,” he growled. He stalked toward her like a predator closing in on his prey, the aches in his muscles little more than a nuisance.
She took a fighting stance, feet apart and hands extended before her, pointing the dagger at him. He took in the flush of anger on her cheeks adding color to her face and the hard glitter in her violent eyes, and unbidden desire stirred in him.
“S’truth,” she shot back. “I intend to be free from here and rid of you at the same time. Dinna come another step closer.”
“Is that so?” He closed the distance between them, pressing his chest against the weapon. “Be rid of me then. All it takes is a little effort on your part and I’d no longer be a plague to you.” He waited and watched the play of emotions warring in her expressive eyes. Recklessly, he took a step closer. The sharp tip of the dagger broke through his skin, drawing blood.
Dianh gasped. Her shoulders slumped forward and her arms wavered.
He plucked the weapon from her slack hands and pushed her arms away. Tossing the dagger to the ground, he took her face in both hands and gave her a hard kiss.
“I am not afraid of getting hurt,” he enunciated. “And you can’t take care of yourself. You’re so damn weak, you can’t even stand properly.”
To prove it, he tugged on her arm. She came propelling forward and he caught her in his arms, wrapping her close to his heart. She struggled a moment before caving, leaning her weight into him. He lowered his chin to the top of her head and savored the feel of her body safe against him, recalling it had been years since he’d held a woman in comfort.
They remained thus for several long minutes.
Jamie willed his heat into her chilled form. Desolation filled him. He felt helpless, uncertain of how to protect her.
Finally, she said above the steady beat of his heart, “You’ll help me then?”
He sighed. “Aye, I will help you.”
