Terri Brisbin - Stolen by the Highlander

Arabella’s body throbbed.

Her lips were swollen. Her skin tingled. A place deep within her ached for something she could not identify. Well, if she was honest with herself, she could.

More. More of him.

The kisses she’d had with Caelan had never caused this wanting within her. They had been tepid, unmoving kisses. Just between two friends, with no air of intimacy or longing.

Brodie’s kiss had been possessive and enticing. He had tasted her and shown her how to taste him. He wanted her. She could hear it in his breathing and feel it in the way he held her and in the way his body … changed beneath her.

AUTHOR NOTE

Scotland’s history is filled with stories about feuds between the clans. When I was researching a previous book I discovered a feud between the powerful Mackintosh clan and the smaller Cameron clan that went on to last more than three hundred and fifty years!

It began in the early 1300s, over claims to a piece of land, and expanded over generations and across the lands of both the Mackintoshes and the Camerons. It eventually even involved the King of Scotland. Since the Mackintosh clan led the larger ‘Chattan Confederation’—a group of several clans and septs—it drew in large and small families over time.

After thousands of deaths, dozens of battles and attempts at truces and treaties, it ended in 1665, when the Camerons paid a fee to the Mackintoshes for the lands they claimed!

I have taken some liberties with the timing of some of the battles and the names or locations of some of the keeps, changing them to accommodate my story a bit, but the animosity between the clans is real. For when lands and titles and power and wealth are involved the truth can sometimes be stranger than any fictional story created to explain it all!

I hope you enjoy Stolen by the Highlander, the first book in my A Highland Feuding mini-series, and especially the sexy, brave Highlanders who seek to control their destinies and the strong women who tame them in the end!

Stolen by the Highlander

Terri Brisbin

www.millsandboon.co.uk

TERRI BRISBINis wife to one, mother of three, and dental hygienist to hundreds when not living the life of a glamorous romance author. She was born, raised, and is still living in the southern New Jersey suburbs. Terri’s love of history led her to write time-travel romances and historical romances set in Scotland and England.

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I dedicate this book,

the first in my new series, to my editorial ‘team’ at Mills & Boon ®Historical Romances in the Richmond UK office—especially Megan Haslam, Kathryn Cheshire and Senior Editor Linda Fildew. They constantly push me to make my work better and stronger for my readers, and though we sometimes disagree on how to accomplish that (LOL!), they always do it in a kind and supportive way. It’s been great working with you over these last several books—thanks for all you do for me!

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Author Note

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Arabella Cameron understood how the layer of ice on a frozen lake felt. The smile she held on her face as another Mackintosh offered a poem about her beauty would crack soon, just as that brittle ice did when hit by a stone. She did not hold out much hope that she could keep smiling as the words reached a new level of ridiculous praise. The tip of her nose tingled and the worry over her face cracking disappeared when presented with the larger concern of laughing.

Drawing in a slow breath, she blinked several times, hoping the danger of being impertinent or disrespectful would pass soon. As she raised her eyes, Arabella was horrified to meet the dark and brooding gaze of Brodie Mackintosh. Seated at the end of the table to her right, the older of the two men who were possible heirs to The Mackintosh stared back at her, not flinching and not looking away. In the short time since they’d met, she did not ever remember him smiling.

Nothing in his mahogany-brown eyes gave her any indication of how he felt about these men regaling their clans with tales of her beauty and graciousness. Or how he felt about her. Or the possibility that they might, within a few months, be man and wife. Distracted by his intense stare, she had not noticed the poem had ended or that the room silenced in anticipation of her reaction.

Until he turned his glance away and angled his head towards... Towards the Mackintosh bard who had stopped speaking and now looked expectantly at her, awaiting her reaction to his words. Arabella nodded and clapped her hands.

‘I am honoured by your kind words...’ She could not remember his name.

‘Dougal was not being kind, Lady Arabella,’ Caelan Mackintosh interrupted. Seated to her left, he met her gaze and winked, knowing she’d forgotten the bard’s name. ‘He was speaking the truth as we all see it to be.’ She turned back to the man who’d spoken and nodded.

‘Still, I am honoured by your praise, Dougal. And I thank you for composing and sharing it with our clans.’

The bard bowed and returned to his seat amidst the cheering of those gathered for this feast. Caelan leaned in closer and whispered so that others did not hear.

‘You have bewitched all of the Mackintoshes with your beauty and grace, Arabella. The Camerons could have won this feud long ago if they’d used you as their secret weapon.’ He touched her hand, a slight caress, and then lifted his cup to his mouth, all the while his gaze never straying from hers. ‘You have bewitched me.’

She’d heard these words before. She’d been praised for her beauty, a gift from the Almighty that had nothing to do with her own accomplishments, all of her life. But watching Caelan’s piercing blue eyes deepen as he spoke now made her want to feel something for them. She wanted to believe them.

He offered her his cup, turning it so that her lips would touch the place where his had been. Arabella allowed this gesture, this small intimacy, from the man she might marry. The corners of his mouth curved into an enticing smile as she drank the wine. The heat that spread throughout her was not from the strong wine but from the way Caelan watched as she swallowed and licked her lip where a drop yet remained. He leaned closer as though he would dare a kiss, here, now, and she held her breath, waiting.

The crashing sound of metal hitting the stone floor startled her and she turned towards the interruption. Brodie leaned over and picked up his heavy cup and placed it back on the table. Whether done a-purpose or by accident, it had ruined the moment between her and Caelan. And any hopes of rekindling it were dashed when her father spoke.