The ride to Scotland this time had been more leisurely. Jillian and Ian had wed quietly at Cantford and then spent two weeks deciding which horses would be taken to Scotland to begin an interbreeding program there. She and Ian, astride Gunnar, had also ridden to all of their neighbors and she had introduced him to them all.
Strangely, Jamie had decided to stay at Cantford as they journeyed north. “Just as an overseer until ye return,” he’d said, but Jillian suspected it had more to do with Mari than it did horses. Not that they weren’t still squabbling.
But right now, Ian’s sisters were making a fuss over her, adjusting her new plaid and pinning it with a temporary brooch. Ian would be fastening the Macleod horned boar to it during the Gaelic ceremony that was to take place in a short time.
“So you really saw the faerie?” Fiona asked with wide eyes.
“I’ll never doubt one of Ian’s stories again,” Jillian answered and took the stone from her pocket. The golden streak of light was gone from it now and she knew the faerie no longer lived in the stone, but she wasn’t going to part from it. “I hope we can travel to Dunvegan so I can see the faerie flag too.”
“Doona be expecting it to cast a spell for ye,” Bridget warned with a laugh. “The Macleod have one wish left with it.”
“All I wish for is Ian,” Jillian returned.
“How romantic,” Fiona sighed as the twins giggled.
Just then, a bellow came from down below and Bridget sighed. “It seems the groom is a wee bit impatient.”
The sight of Ian standing near a copse of oak trees that had at one time been a druid’s circle took Jillian’s breath away. He had been her lawful husband for nearly a month, but she would never tire of looking at his solid, muscular body and that strong, chiseled face with the raven hair and dark eyes.
Those eyes turned appreciatively on her now as he looked at her in her new plaid. Soon she would be a true Macleod. Then she blushed as she realized his expression had changed. If she were any judge, soon she would not be wearing the plaid…or anything else.
The priest who had officiated at their hand-fasting went through the formal ceremony, and then Ian fastened the brooch that made her a member of his clan. She didn’t think she had ever felt more proud.
Just as she was about to turn and be acknowledged by his kinsman, the Old Crone of the Hills materialized from the nearby woods. A hush fell over the normally jubilant Scots, but Jillian smiled at her. The old woman had given her the stone, after all.
She approached Jillian. “So ye have returned to have the bairn?” she asked.
Jillian’s smile faded. “I can have no bairn.” She heard the collective gasp of those nearby. The truth was out and she hoped Ian’s clansmen would forgive him for not telling them.
“Ye are wrong. Ye already carry the wee one.”
Jillian stared at her while Ian’s hand tightened around her shoulders. “What do you mean? I am barren.”
The old woman’s dark eyes looked at her shrewdly. “Have ye been ill o’late?”
Her stomach had been queasy, now that she thought of it. “Well, yes, but—”
“And do ye tire easily?”
“Lately…”
“The signs are there for ye, lass. I do not need them. Ye carry a fine son for the Macleod. One that has waited a long time to come.”
Could it be? Suddenly, Jillian recalled the conversation with Wesley. A conversation that she thought she would never want to think about again. But what had he said? The old bastard couldn’t make his wife pregnant. And he hadn’t made Jillian pregnant either. She had never suspected that Rufus might have the problem and not her.
“Ye’ve come home, lass. Be welcome,” the Crone said and then turned to fade back into the trees.
Home. Yes, that was how Jillian felt, she realized. The Highlands and this old castle felt more like home than the townhouse in London ever had. It even felt better than Newburn Hall, which was a bittersweet memory. She would return for Mari’s Season, but home would be here. Here, she could start over, with a new family. With her husband and her own bairn.
She linked her arm through Ian’s and he laid his other hand protectively on her stomach and brushed her brow with a kiss.
Jillian sighed. She couldn’t ask for anything more.
She was home.
About the Author
The first time Cynthia Breeding arrived in Scotland, it felt familiar. Sitting in the Great Hall of Stirling Castle, which the Bruce claimed after Bannockburn, was a surreal experience.
Back in the States, Cynthia resides in the semi-tropic city of Corpus Christi, Texas, where she enjoys long walks on the beach with her Bichon Frise.
She can be reached at www.cynthiabreeding.com or through snail mail at: 3636 S. Alameda, B116, Corpus Christi, Texas 78411.
Look for these titles by Cynthia Breeding
Now Available:
Capture Her Heart
A passion neither of them wanted…and neither can deny.
Rogue Countess
© 2012 Amy Sandas
Anna Locke was once young, naïve and infatuated with the handsome Jude Sinclair. Until the charismatic “gentleman” showed his true colors by abandoning her on their wedding day.
In the years since, she has transformed herself into a confident, successful woman, independent of her errant husband’s aristocratic family in every way but name. When Jude unexpectedly returns demanding a divorce, she quashes the butterflies he still elicits, and resolves to show him she won’t be so easily cast aside.
Jude has come home to assume the responsibilities left to him upon his father’s death, and to finally end the marriage into which he was tricked. To his surprise, Anna is no longer an awkward, skinny girl with a furtive gaze. She has become a lush, enigmatic vixen with a dark gaze that shields secrets she seems determined to keep.
In their intimate war of wills, the heat of bold desire flares into passion—and casts light on a shared past tangled in lies and blackmail. But until Jude can win her trust and learn the truth, there will be no destroying the obstacles that loom darkly between them…and the love that should have been theirs.
Warning: This title contains a shockingly revealing sapphire gown, highly improper behavior at a masquerade, a tangled web of deception, and perhaps most scandalous of all, a fiery passion that flares to life between a husband and wife who have been estranged since their wedding day.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Rogue Countess:
Anna gasped again as his fingers continued to follow along the top edge of her gown. He stood close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, yet he only touched her with a light brushing of his fingertips. He wore no gloves, another thing a gentleman would never do. She had noticed with the very first stroke of his fingers that they were not soft and smooth, as they should have been. His touch was slightly callused.
She discovered she liked the feel of a man’s roughened hands on her skin.
He moved around behind her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and brushed his fingers across the swollen rise of her breasts where they pushed over the top of her bodice. Her skin tingled with masterfully awakened sensitivity in the wake of his caress. He stalked her with his movements and his gentle touch soothed her at the same time. Her breath caught in her throat and she willed herself to remain in control.
This game wasn’t played through yet. Recalling that he had asked her a question, she sorted through the hazy corners of her mind for the appropriate answer.
“Would it matter if I had a husband?” Her reply was breathless.
“No,” he murmured just before he pressed his warm mouth to the curve where her neck met her shoulder.
Anna had to fist her hands to keep from jumping out of her skin at the sudden sensations wrought on her system. Her nerves hummed and vibrated like the strings of a violin. Her muscles grew heavy and weak as if they had been filled with sand. He pressed another hot kiss to the side of her throat and his palm
covered the upper rise of her breast, pressing over the spot where her heart beat fiercely. At the same time, his other hand slid around her waist to pull her back against his chest.
Impressions of sparkling licks of flame erupted throughout her body as she tried to accustom herself to the feel of his mouth on her bare skin and his arm encircling her middle to hold her so intimately against him. His strength was unexpected, as was his unhurried and practiced mode of seduction. She could never have imagined the way her body reacted to the warmth of his hand covering her breast. She tried to remind herself what this elaborate masquerade was all about. But when he trailed a path of kisses across the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck, she had to concentrate to keep her knees from giving way.
There was too much sensation, too much heat, too much fluttering reaction in her belly. She was grateful for the stiff binding corset, for surely he would have felt the wild quivering of her body beneath the steadying band of his arm.
“Relax,” he whispered behind her. “Your heart beats like a trapped bird beneath my hand. Do I frighten you?”
“I do not frighten easily,” Anna replied, though she doubted her words were very convincing.
“Then I excite you?” he pressed in a low voice.
“A lady wouldn’t answer such a query,” she replied. The pertness of her words softened with the long audible sigh as he lowered his mouth to kiss the spot below her ear where her pulse beat most fiercely.
“That’s all right,” Jude murmured, as he slid his hand from her breast up the length of her throat to press under her jaw. His gentle urging eased her head back and to the side. Anna’s eyes drifted closed just as his warm breath chased across her lips. “You already did,” he whispered.
Then his mouth lowered to claim hers in a burning kiss.
Oddly, Anna’s first thought was of Leif, and the one time he had stolen a kiss from her. He had been drunk and in a playful mood and had pulled her down into his lap and planted a kiss on her lips before she had even known it was coming. Although he’d apologized afterward, she hadn’t regretted it. It had been short and swift, and Anna remembered being grateful he hadn’t been in a state of mind to use his full arsenal of skills in that kiss. As it was, the experience had been more than pleasant and had left Anna just a bit shaken afterward.
But even that experience with one of the most practiced and celebrated lovers in England was nothing in comparison to what she felt the instant Jude’s lips touched hers.
The bright and flashing passion took her by surprise.
After no more than a second, Jude turned her in his arms and hauled her up against him in a full embrace. He growled quietly as she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself to the kiss. She had no choice in the matter. Every bit of common sense had fled from her consciousness. She wanted to be closer. She wanted to feel more of his heat, more of the delicious desire pouring from his kiss.
Her fervent wish was granted as his hand slid into her carefully constructed coiffure to cup the back of her head. He positioned her so the kiss could go deeper. She drew a sharp breath, expanding her lungs and crushing her breasts against his solid chest. His tongue forced entrance and she gasped at the wicked sense of possession. Their tongues mated in a furious dance and she felt as though she may never get enough. The taste of his mouth was an intoxicating combination of fire and need, and the encompassing warmth of his arms secured her to him like a vice from which she had no wish to escape.
She was drowning, sinking deeply into the overwhelming desire that pulsed through her.
Wait! This is all wrong, a voice shouted in her head. Alarm speared icily through her body. She’d never intended the deception to go so far. She had underestimated the situation by drastic degrees.
Unwrapping her arms from around his neck, she pressed her palms against his shoulders and arched away from his kiss.
“Enough,” she muttered on a ragged gasp.
“Not nearly,” Jude replied as his mouth fell to the lengthened curve of her throat.
Chills chased over her skin and she closed her eyes again as she fought the burning temptation to sink back down into the whirlwind of passion. She managed to grasp onto one delicate detail in her mind that reinforced her need to escape.
He still had no idea who she was.
“I said enough,” she repeated more forcefully as she shoved free from his hold. She took two stumbling steps back, though it didn’t appear to be necessary as he did not reach for her. His arms dropped to his sides and he eyed her with lust and tension.
Anna fought to regain her breath and her composure. She met his gaze and his eyes burned bright with the flames of unspent passion. Need pierced her core.
She was surprised to feel the tears pricking behind her eyes as reality set in.
She hadn't expected this to be so painful. She thought herself to be well past the feelings of betrayal and disillusionment that had consumed her when she had been young and first married. Her daring little escapade tonight had succeeded beyond her expectations. In case she had harbored any doubt, she now had undeniable proof her husband was as wickedly adulterous as the stories had always claimed. She’d also learned she was not nearly as strong as she thought.
“I didn't think I could still be so foolish and naïve,” she whispered with a shaky little laugh as she lifted her hands to untie the ribbons of her mask.
“What the hell are you…?” Jude started, but as she lowered the mask from her face, his question trailed off and his glowering expression deepened.
She wondered what he was thinking as he stared at her then. Mostly, he looked annoyed and frustrated and still passionately aroused. Anna returned his stare, her chin lifted high, her eyes direct and challenging. She blinked away her threatening tears and recalled all the reasons she had to hate him.
“What's the matter, Jude?” she asked finally, pleased to find her voice steady and confident. “Nothing to say?”
“You know me?” he asked stiffly.
“That depends upon your definition of knowing, my lord,” Anna replied with a harsh twist of her lips.
Jude narrowed his gaze and his voice took on an almost menacing tone. “I am not a man to find enjoyment in dark pranks or willful subterfuge. It would be best if you disclose your identity and your purpose.”
“You really haven’t figured it out yet?” Anna asked then, surprised he hadn’t put it all together. “You said earlier that it wouldn’t matter if I were married.” She paused, but he remained silent and waited for her to continue. “What about your wife, my lord? Does she matter?”
Jude’s expression blackened. “I have no wife.”
Anna laughed then, a rough and raw sound. “I beg to differ, my lord husband.”
When you walk on the wild side of society, the greatest danger could be to your own heart.
Scarlet Kisses
© 2012 Tish Westwood
Passions Unveiled, Book 1
Alyssum Rosewood has just come to a shocking realization. Her life is boring. Visions of spinsterhood dancing in her head, she dons a dramatic red gown and sneaks out to attend Lady Brook’s infamous masquerade ball, where a gentleman sweeps her into his arms and steals a kiss that reveals a passion she never dreamed existed. But then she learns his identity—the reckless and improper Viscount Lambert, her overprotective brother’s best friend.
Robert Lambert finds the lady in red captivating. Her kiss quickens his heart and her innocent yet wicked touch sets his body on fire. But she slips from his grasp and flees before he can remove her mask. Come hell or high scandal, he will find his fiery little temptress.
Certain Robert will be horrified to learn she is the woman whose shocking behavior aroused his lust, Alyssum desperately tries to hide the truth deep in her heart. But with every look, every touch, every kiss, she comes ever closer to throwing caution to the wind…
Warning: This book contains a hidden love, a possessive brother, scoundrels and fistfights. A scarlet gown, la
dies sneaking into taverns and a heroine who has just been awakened into the world of pleasure.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Scarlet Kisses:
Robert looked over the crowded ballroom and saw Jackson grinning down at his Rosy. He turned his gaze and found Tucker leaning against a white column while stroking the back of his hand down Lavender’s arm. She stared up at him, giggling and blushing.
Robert exhaled sharply. He needed to stop looking for Alyssum and go win his wager. He shifted his gaze, looking for the bold scarlet dress. He had spotted her throughout the night, constantly surrounded by gentlemen.
Walking through the room, he saw three red dresses but none belonging to Scarlet.
He walked out onto the balcony but he found it empty. Just as he was about to turn and go back inside, he spotted a woman in the corner, hiding in the shadows. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dark and he saw her leaning against the railing. It was Scarlet. With another quick look around for any signs of guests, he walked over to her. As he made his way over, he stripped off his gloves and tucked them into the inside of his coat pocket.
Alyssum heard the footsteps of someone approaching her. By the clomp of the shoes on the balcony, she knew it was a gentleman. Hoping it wasn’t one of the men she had already met tonight, she slowly stood straight but kept her back to him. She held the railing with her gloved hands.
The gentleman stopped behind her. She held her breath. His shoes scuffed the stone floor then she felt the brush of his coat against her back. She exhaled and found her breath shook.
Alyssum gasped under the soft caress of fingers on her exposed back. She felt her skin tingling and responding. She remained still, wanting his touch. Her cheeks burned at her wicked behavior. She felt the gentleman step closer, his coat brushing her bare back. She then felt his warm breath at her ear.
The man raised both hands and smoothed them over her shoulders slowly, as if he didn’t want to frighten her. He gently swiped her hair over one shoulder, dragging the waves behind her ear then across her neck.
Rogue of the Highlands: Rogue, Book 1 Page 33
