The Highlander's Lost Lady (The Lairds Most Likely 3) - Page 119

“That’s why I asked you to come for a walk, so I could tell you.” She smiled with a smugness he admitted she had every right to feel. “But you distracted me from my purpose, you wicked man.”

A bairn. In February. He would soon become a father.

And his wife loved him. That astonishing fact still had the power to knock him flat. Could life offer him any greater happiness?

“Is it all right that we…”

“Mags says marital relations are no danger to the baby.”

He caught her around the waist, already looking forward to seeing her grow round with his child as the months went on. “Just in case, I’ll restrict myself to a bed from now on.”

“Must you?” The look she shot him was pure temptation. “What we did today was so very thrilling.”

“Aye, it was thrilling. But so is this news.” He shook his head in dazed confusion. In the space of half an hour, his whole life had changed. “A bairn…”

“Yes.”

“And ye love me.”

“More than I can say.”

“Well, devil take me for an Englishman.” A slow smile curved his lips as giddy joy took possession of his heart. “That’s what I call a bonny outcome for this tale of a mermaid and a laird.”

“I agree.” Still smiling, she stepped closer and slowly slid her hands up his chest. “Not to mention a damsel in distress and a knight in shining armor, my beloved.”

Feeling as though his wife had invited him to step through the gates of heaven, Diarmid curled his arms around her and stared into her unforgettable face. “Kiss me, my darling.”

“With the utmost pleasure, laird of my heart.” Rising on her toes, Fiona pressed her lips to his in a kiss that promised a lifetime together of dreams come true.

***

I hope you’ve had a wonderful time visiting the world of The Lairds Most Likely. If you’ve missed out on them, the first two books in the series are The Laird’s Willful Lass and The Laird’s Christmas Kiss. Continue reading for short excerpts from both stories.

Excerpt from The Laird's Willful Lass

An untamed man as immovable as a Highland mountain…

Fergus Mackinnon, autocratic Laird of Achnasheen, likes to be in charge. When he was little more than a lad, he became master of his Scottish estate, and he’s learned to rely on his unfailing judgment. So has everyone else in his corner of the world. He sees no reason for his bride—when he finds her—to be any different.

A headstrong woman from the warm and passionate south…

Marina Lucchetti knows all about fighting her way through a wall of masculine arrogance. In her native Florence, she’s become a successful artist, no easy feat for a woman. Now a commission to paint a series of Highland scenes promises to spread her fame far and wide. When a carriage accident strands her at Achnasheen for a few weeks, it’s a mixed blessing. The magnificent landscape offers everything her artistic soul could desire. If only she can resist the impulse to smash her easel across the laird’s obstinate head.

When two fiery souls come together, a conflagration flares.

Marina is Fergus’s worst nightmare—a woman who defies a man’s guidance. Fergus challenges everything Marina believes about a woman’s right to choose her path. No two people could be less suited. But when irresistible passion enters the equation, good sense soon jumps into the loch.

Will the desire between Fergus and Marina blaze hot, then fade to ashes? Or will the imperious laird and his willful lass discover that their differences aren’t insurmountable after all, but the spice that will flavor a lifeti

me of happiness?

Chapter One

Achnasheen, Western Highlands of Scotland, September 1817

The smart yellow carriage careered wildly along the steep, rutted track that snaked down into the glen. Fergus hauled Banshee to a stop on the bend of the road. Horror churned in his gut, as he watched the vehicle speeding toward the burn, swollen to river size after the rainy summer.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, digging his heels into Banshee’s sides. The mare set off through the twilight at a gallop, while his dogs Macushla and Brecon ran barking at her heels.

Tags: Anna Campbell The Lairds Most Likely Historical
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