Highland Hero Read online

  SCOTTISH KISS

  Kenneth gently grasped Isbel by the shoulders and pulled her close, smiling faintly when he felt her trembling beneath his hands. “Isbel, did ye truly come to find your cat?”

  “Do you really wish to hear the truth?” she asked in a soft, unsteady voice.

  “Aye, I have always favored the truth,” he murmured and touched a kiss to her forehead.

  “Nay, I didnae come to find the cat.”

  “What did ye come to find?” He cupped her face between his hands and brushed a kiss over her faintly parted lips.

  “Another kiss,” she whispered.

  “Isbel, my sweet child of the faeries, if I kiss you, ’twill nae end there.”

  “I am nay an innocent. I ken what the kiss could lead to.”

  “There will be no could about it. It will lead to a bedding. Ye pulled away from the first kiss we shared and I let you. I cannae promise I will let ye free this time. Not unless ye put up a verra loud protest.”

  “I willnae put up a loud one.” She curled her arms around his neck. “I dinnae think I will be inclined to even whisper one.”

  “Before we start to play this game, honor demands that I tell ye a few rules. I cannae promise ye I will stay—” He frowned when she stopped his words by touching her soft fingertips to his lips.

  “I ken that there will be no promises made. I ask for none, save for a wee taste of the passion I felt when we kissed . . .”

  Books by Hannah Howell

  ONLY FOR YOU * MY VALIANT KNIGHT *

  UNCONQUERED * WILD ROSES *

  A TASTE OF FIRE * HIGHLAND DESTINY *

  HIGHLAND HONOR * HIGHLAND PROMISE *

  A STOCKINGFUL OF JOY * HIGHLAND VOW *

  HIGHLAND KNIGHT * HIGHLAND HEARTS *

  HIGHLAND BRIDE * HIGHLAND ANGEL *

  HIGHLAND GROOM * HIGHLAND WARRIOR *

  RECKLESS * HIGHLAND CONQUEROR *

  HIGHLAND CHAMPION * HIGHLAND LOVER *

  HIGHLAND VAMPIRE * THE ETERNAL

  HIGHLANDER * MY IMMORTAL HIGHLANDER *

  CONQUEROR’S KISS * HIGHLAND BARBARIAN *

  BEAUTY AND THE BEAST * HIGHLAND SAVAGE *

  HIGHLAND THIRST * HIGHLAND WEDDING *

  HIGHLAND WOLF * SILVER FLAME *

  HIGHLAND FIRE * NATURE OF THE BEAST *

  HIGHLAND CAPTIVE * HIGHLAND SINNER *

  MY LADY CAPTOR * IF HE’S WICKED *

  WILD CONQUEST * IF HE’S SINFUL *

  KENTUCKY BRIDE * IF HE’S WILD *

  YOURS FOR ETERNITY * COMPROMISED HEARTS *

  HIGHLAND PROTECTOR * STOLEN ECSTASY *

  IF HE’S DANGEROUS * HIGHLAND HERO *

  HIGHLAND HUNGER * HIGHLAND AVENGER *

  HIS BONNIE BRIDE * BORN TO BITE

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  HANNAH HOWELL

  HIGHLAND HERO

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  SCOTTISH KISS

  Books by Hannah Howell

  Title Page

  Edina and the Baby

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  The Magic Garden

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Isbel

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Tatha

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Copyright Page

  Edina and the Baby

  Chapter 1

  Scottish Highlands—Summer, 1420

  “Gar? Where are ye, laddie?”

  Edina MacAdam cursed as the sharp leaves of a tall thistle found the small, unprotected strip of soft white skin between the top of her knee-high deer-hide boots and the hem of her tucked-up skirts. She looked around the wooded hillside as she idly scratched the irritating small bumps raised by the plant’s unwelcoming touch. Her wolfhound had left her side and bounded up the hill, evidently tracking something that had excited him. He had disappeared into the thick growth of trees at the top of the hill and, now, even his barking had stopped.

  After checking that her string of rabbits was firmly secured to her sword belt, she took a deep breath and plunged into the shadowed forest. It took several moments to quell the urge to run right back out, her terror of the forest almost blinding, but she had to find her dog. Gar was the only companion she had. Forcing back the dark memories of how her lovely but heartless mother had left her in the dark forest to run off with her lover, Edina concentrated on finding her dog. The day that had bred her fears had occurred fifteen years earlier, when she was barely five. It was time to shake free of such childish terrors. Her heart pounding in her ears and the cold sweat of fear trickling down her back, Edina stepped deeper into the forest.

  “Gar! Curse ye for a witless beast! Where are ye?”

  A sharp yelp answered her. Edina turned toward the sound. Calling repeatedly to her pet, she followed his sharp answering barks, softly cursing the forest for trying to mislead her with its echoes and the way it concealed the true direction of a sound. When she finally saw Gar sitting beneath a tree, she was torn between the urge to hug the dog in relief and soundly scold him. Then she saw the bundle of rags he sat next to. Even as she cautiously approached, one tiny, pale, dimpled arm appeared and a little hand grabbed a clump of Gar’s thick fur in a way Edina knew had to be painful. Gar just glanced at the small hand, then looked at Edina and yelped.

  “A bairn,” she whispered as she crouched on the other side of the child.

  She reached out to touch the cooing child, saw the dirt on her hands, and grimaced. Edina trickled water onto her hands from the goatskin she carried, then rubbed them clean with the skirts of her soft gray gown. After gently detaching the baby’s hand from Gar’s mottled gray fur, she picked the child up in her arms and found it impossible to silence her dark memories.

  As clearly as if it were happening before her eyes, Edina could see her mother riding away with her lover, laughing at her cries. She had stood where she had been left for hours, unable to believe that her mother was not going to return. The sounds of the forest had changed from enchanting to threatening with each passing moment. In her terrified child’s eyes the trees had become grotesque, dangerous shapes trapping her, alone, within their shadowed home. Her dour uncle had not found her until the next day and, by then, her fear had deepened until it had scarred her very soul. It did not help her to conquer her fears when every time she looked into a mirror she saw her mother. Edina was not sure how exactly she matched the woman’s looks, but she knew she had the same thick, unruly raven hair and the same faintly slanted, clear green eyes. That was more than enough to revive the painful memories. The lack of love and attention she got at her uncle’s home ensured that she had nothing with which to soften those harsh memories.

  “Did your mother toss ye aside?” she whispered as she und
id the child’s swaddling and carefully looked him over before covering him back up again, relieved to find no injuries. “At least ye are too young to ken what has happened to you and where ye are. Ye willnae be scarred by the painful memories or the fear. Why do they do this to their bairns, laddie? Mothers arenae supposed to cast aside their bairns likes the bones of a finished meal.”

  She held him close, carefully stood up, and began to examine the area closely, looking for any sign that might tell her why a child of six months or so had been left to fend for itself in the forest. “Mayhap I blacken your mother’s name unfairly,” she said as she crouched and frowned down at the clear sign of hoofprints on the moist forest floor. “There may be an even darker reason for ye to be left here to die.”

  Just as she was trying to figure out how many horses had been there, she heard a sound that chilled her blood. Someone was riding toward them. She could hear the sound of horses crushing the leaves and undergrowth beneath their hooves. Even as she set the baby down, stood protectively in front of him, and drew her small sword, she heard men’s voices. She patted Gar’s big head as he stood beside her. She straightened her shoulders and waited, determined that no one would touch the child until she was sure he would be safe—and loved.

  Lucais MacRae raised his gaze from the ground where he had been searching for tracks and reined his horse in so sharply, it startled the horses of his two companions into rearing slightly. As his cousins Ian and Andrew struggled to calm their mounts, Lucais studied the vision before him. He had spent three grueling days searching for his nephew, and the last thing he had expected to find was a belligerent little woman and a massive dog standing between him and what he had been seeking.

  She was a tiny woman in both stature and height, made to look even tinier by the trees towering all around her. Thick, raven black hair tumbled around her slim shoulders in a wild, silken tangle. Her soft gray gown fitted snugly over full breasts, and her thick hair brushed against a tiny waist. The way her skirts were kilted up revealed slender, well-shaped legs. Her small, heart-shaped face was dominated by wide, heavily lashed eyes of a green so true and rich, he could see the color even from where he stood. He knew that they would be breathtaking up close. It would be easy to dismiss her for some pretty little lass, no more and certainly no threat, except for the small sword in her delicate white hands. She not only held the weapon as if she knew how to use it, but the expression on her pretty face told him that she was fully prepared to do so.

  He dropped his gaze to the rag-wrapped child on the ground just behind her small, booted feet. Lucais could not see the baby’s face, but the thick chestnut curls spilling out of the top of the wrappings told him that it was his nephew Malcolm. When he looked back at the girl, he felt suspicion and anger push aside his attraction and surprise.

  “I have come to take my nephew home, wench,” he said, and pointed at the baby.

  “And what proof do ye have to tell me that he truly is your blood kin?” she demanded.

  Edina fought the urge to take a step back when he glared at her, the strength of his anger frightening her. He was a big man, tall and lean yet strongly built. Thick chestnut hair that gleamed red whenever the sun touched it hung past his broad shoulders. The dark plaid draping his hard body was pinned with a brooch that identified him as a MacRae of Dunmor. The lean lines of his handsome face were taut with emotion. The clenching of his strong jaw, the light flush upon his high, wide cheekbones, and the tight line of his well-shaped mouth clearly identified that emotion as a dangerous fury. She glanced briefly at the way his long-fingered hand gripped the hilt of his sword, found herself a little too interested in the shape of his long legs, and quickly returned her gaze to his face. It was a poor time to find a man disturbingly attractive, she decided, especially since that man looked as if he would like to take her head from her shoulders.

  “Look at the bairn’s hair,” he snapped.

  “I have. He has a fine crop of curls, but brown isnae such a rare color that it alone marks him as your kin.” Edina was surprised that she could look him in the eye and so sweetly dismiss his rich hair color as common. “Ye cannae expect me to just hand ye a helpless bairn because ye tell me to or because ye both have brown hair.”

  “And just what concern is it of yours?” he demanded as he dismounted in one graceful move. When he stepped toward her, however, the dog bristled and bared his large teeth in a low, threatening snarl, and Lucais stopped moving. “I might ask ye what ye are doing here, deep in the forest, with only an ugly dog and a bairn.”

  “That handsome beast is Gar, and I found this wee bairn whilst hunting.” She lightly touched the rabbits hanging from her sword belt to strengthen her claim.

  “A few rabbits dangling from your belt doesnae mean ye are innocent of any crime. It could just mean that ye paused now and again in the committing of the crime to do a wee bit of hunting.”

  Edina briefly feared that he knew she was hunting on another clan’s lands, then shook that fear aside. He did not know who she was, for she wore no identifying brooch, badge, or plaid, so he could not know that she was poaching. “What crime? I have committed no crime.”

  “I have searched for my nephew Malcolm for three long days, and, when I finally find him, ye are here standing over him. I would not be amiss in suspecting that ye might have had something to do with his kidnapping.”

  “Nay? Ye would be an idiot. Ye are MacRaes from Dunmor. That is o’er a day’s ride from here. Look about, fool. Do ye see a horse?”

  It annoyed Lucais that he could find her low, husky voice attractive when she was so sharply insulting him. “Ye could be the one who was given the bairn after the kidnapping and ye brought him here to this desolate place intending to leave him here to die. Now ye try to keep us from saving him.” He took an instinctive step back from the fury that whitened her pale skin and hardened her delicate features.

  “I should kill ye for that insult,” she hissed, fighting to tame her anger, for she knew she needed a clear head if she was to be an adequate protector for the child. “I would ne’er leave a bairn alone.”

  “Then why do ye hesitate to return him to the arms of his own kinsmen?”

  “I am nae so sure that ye are his kin, and I certainly have no proof that those arms are safe ones.”

  Edina was beginning to doubt that this man was a threat to the child, but she feared that his handsome face might be influencing her opinion. She could not believe she could be so quickly and fiercely attracted to a man who could hurt a child. That child’s life was at stake, however, and she had to be sure. The fact that he and his two companions had made no move to simply take the baby away from her, something she was sure they could do without too much danger of injury to themselves, was in their favor, but even that was not enough.

  “Lucais,” said the redheaded Andrew, drawing his angry cousin’s attention his way. “We go nowhere with this trading of accusations and the day speeds by. Mayhap ye and the lass can come to some agreement so that we can take poor wee Malcolm to a warmer, safer place. We must spend at least one night sleeping upon the ground. If we linger here much longer, that could become two, and that willnae help poor Malcolm.”

  The wisdom of Andrew’s words could not be ignored, and Lucais took a deep breath to calm himself before again looking at the belligerent young woman keeping him from Malcolm. “Can we agree that the child must be kept safe?”

  There was still a hint of anger in his deep, rich voice, and that made his attempt to be reasonable all the more admirable in Edina’s eyes, so she nodded. “Aye. That is what we both claim to want.”

  “And the trouble lies in the fact that I dinnae believe you and ye dinnae believe me. Ye dinnae wish to give the child to me and I dinnae wish to give the child to you, a woman I have ne’er met and dinnae even ken the name of.”

  “I am Edina MacAdam, niece to Ronald MacAdam of Glenfair. And, aye, ye have the right of it.”

  Lucais gave her a mocking bow. “And I
am Lucais MacRae, Laird of Dunmor. So, we are at an impasse.”

  “Do I have your word that ye willnae kill me if I sheath my sword?”

  “Aye. I swear it. Are ye willing to believe in my word?”

  She shrugged as she sheathed her sword. “I cannae be certain that I do, but, if ye break your word, I will have the pleasure of kenning that ye will go to hell for giving an empty oath. And your name will be weel blackened, if it hasnae been already.”

  “Ye watch your tongue, lass,” snapped young Ian, his thin face tight with anger. “The name of Lucais MacRae is an honored one. There isnae a mon in all of Scotland who wouldnae be proud to have Lucais stand at his side.”

  “Thank you, cousin,” Lucais murmured to the youth, who, at barely nineteen years of age, was not as skilled as he was eager to be a knight. He caught Edina rolling her eyes at the boy’s effusive praise and was surprised to have to swallow a laugh. “We need an answer to our problem, mistress,” he told her. “As my cousin Andrew so wisely indicated, the day wanes and we must be on our way or chance two nights on the road. ’Tis summer, but the weather isnae always this fair and warm. A night caught out in a storm could harm the child.”

  Keeping a close watch on the three men, Edina picked up little Malcolm. “I can keep the bairn with me until ye have ended the danger he is in.”

  “Nay. I dinnae ken ye or your people. He is my sister’s child. I will protect him.”

  “Aye, and ye have done such a fine job of it thus far.” She ignored his anger and thought for a moment, finally reaching a decision that both satisfied and terrified her. “I willnae leave this bairn until I am sure he is safe and ye willnae let me keep him with me. That leaves but one other answer. I must come with you.”

  Chapter 2

  Edina grimaced and tried to stretch without disturbing the child sleeping at her side. She did not think she had ever slept on harder or colder ground. Just as she was cursing herself for riding off to a strange place with men she did not know, little Malcolm opened his big gray eyes and smiled at her. Edina sighed and knew she would make the same choice no matter how often she was presented with the problem.