Highland Enchantment (Highland Brides) Read Online Free Page A

duke. He had wondered why she was so far from home. "On the mend?" He narrowed his eyes at her. "You traveled all the way to London to see the duke healed, then left before he was completely recovered?"
    She said nothing.
    "Tis not like you."
    She touched the cloth to his lip. It stung, but not unbearably.
    "I believe myself far beyond the point where I've a need to explain my actions to you, Liam,"
    she said.
    So she was hiding something. But why? In truth, the Lady Saint's actions were rarely anything but saintly, except where he was concerned. Why now would she be keeping secrets? he wondered.
    But there seemed little point in asking her outright, for it had been a long while since she felt inclined to grant him any favors.
    "Ahh." He watched her eyes closely in the hopes of intercepting some unspoken thought as he goaded her. "So you go to meet a lover? A private tryst?"
    She dunked the cloth into the water, wrung it out then returned it to his face, where she wiped at the dried blood on his chin.
    "Does your father know?" he asked.
    Smoothing the rag over his cheek once, she returned it to the bowl.
    "Remove your tunic, Liam," she ordered dryly.
    He gave her his best shocked expression. "What would your beloved say?"
    She lifted her peeved expression to him in an instant. "He would say, I should have left you to the fat-chested slut's husband and his mutton-headed brothers."
    Liam stared at her for a moment then laughed with almost painful relief, for she was obviously just as naive as ever. The horrid images of her in another man's arms faded slowly. "You still know little of men, Rachel. That's not what a lover would say atall. He would be jealous. He would ask what you saw in the Irishman that made you take him under your wing. Mayhap he would have even heard of my attraction for women and be doubly jealous. Therefore I'll have to assume there is no lover. And too..."—he shrugged—"you're not the sort."
    Removing several rolls of bandages from her bag, she set them beside her before returning her gaze to his. "And pray, Liam, in your wise estimation, what sort am I?"
    Her face, ivory pale and princess perfect, seemed little changed from the moment he had first met her in her father's castle.
    "You're the marrying sort," he murmured.
    Her gaze, sharp as cut amethyst, remained on his for a fraction of an instant then flitted downward as her fingers mixed some evil concoction. "So I am told repeatedly."
    The tension that had just eased in his gut, knotted up a hundredfold as the image of her naked appeared again. Naked and ecstatic, writhing in another man's arms, her wicked lips parted as she crooned an unknown name. "By whom?" he asked, forcing the question.
    "The man I am to marry," she said.

Chapter 2
    "You are promised to be wed?" Liam asked. His tone, he was happy to note, was casual, but his gut had twisted into something akin to a cruel sailor's knot.
    She said nothing, her expression unreadable, her fingers quick.
    "Rachel," he said, forcing out the word a little too sharply.
    "I am no blushing maid." She glanced quickly up. "I am five and twenty years old. Tis well past time I am wed."
    Liam clenched his teeth and considered trying a smile, but he was a man who well knew his limitations, and a smile was, just now, far beyond those boundaries. The knot tightened.
    "Who?" he asked, his voice quiet.
    "Tis none of your affair."
    Nay. It was not. It was not. But... God's balls! His gut hurt. He jerked to his feet, and reveled momentarily in the bracing pain.
    "Someone I know?" he asked.
    "Tis difficult to say."
    "So that is where you go in such haste," he said, watching her face. "And the hulk? This Davin.
    He is your... betrothed's man?"
    She raised her chin. "I suppose you would not believe me if I said Davin is the one I am to wed."
    She had always had a biting sense of humor when the mood suited her. But making him believe she would settle for someone whose station was little above his own was cruel beyond