LITMIR.BIZ

      ZEBRA BOOKS

       Kensington Publishing Corp.

       www.kensingtonbooks.com

      Contents

      Highland Lover

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Epilogue

      About the Author

      Chapter 1

      Scotland, Spring 1475

      “Oof!”

      Oof? Dazed and struggling to catch her breath, Alana decided she must have made that noise herself. Hard dirt floors did not say oof. It was odd, however, how the rough stone walls of the oubliette made her voice sound so deep, almost manly. Just as she began to be able to breathe again, the hard dirt floor shifted beneath her.

      It took Alana a moment to fully grasp the fact that she had not landed on the floor. She had landed on a person. That person had a deep, manly voice. It was not dirt or stone beneath her cheek, but cloth. There was also the steady throb of a heartbeat in the ear she had pressed against that cloth. Her fingers were hanging down a little and touching cool, slightly damp earth. She was sprawled on top of a man like a wanton.

      Alana scrambled off the man, apologizing for some awkward placement of her knees and elbows as she did so. The man certainly knew how to curse. She stood up and stared up at the three men looking down at her, the light from the lantern they held doing little more than illuminating their grinning, hairy faces.

      “Ye cannae put me in here with a mon,” she said.

      “Got noplace else to put ye,” said the tallest man of the three, a man called Clyde, who she was fairly sure was the laird.

      “I am a lady,” she began.

      “Ye are a wee, impudent child. Now, are ye going to tell us who ye are?”

      “So ye can rob my people? Nay, I dinnae think so.”

      “Then ye stay where ye are.”

      She did not even have time to stutter out a protest. The grate was shut and that faint source of light quickly disappeared as the Gowans walked away. Alana stared up into the dark and wondered how everything had gone so wrong. All she had wanted to do was help to find her sister Keira, but none of her family had heeded her pleas or her insistence that she could truly help find her twin. It had seemed such a clever idea to disguise herself as a young girl and follow her brothers, waiting for just the right moment to reveal herself. How she had enjoyed those little dreams of walking up to her poor confused brothers and leading them straight to their sister. That had kept a smile upon her face and a jaunty spring in her step right up until the moment she had realized she had not only lost her brothers’ trail, but also had absolutely no idea of where she was.

      Feeling very sorry for herself and wondering why her gifts had so abruptly failed her just when she needed them most, she had been cooking a rabbit and sulking when the Gowans had found her. Alana grimaced as she remembered how she had acted. Perhaps if she had been sweet and had acted helpless, she would not be stuck in a hole in the ground with a man who was apparently relieving himself in a bucket. Maybe it would be wise to tell the Gowans who she was so that they could get some ransom for her and she could get out of here. Appalled by that moment of weakness, Alana proceeded to lecture herself in the hope of stiffening her resolve.

      Gregor inwardly cursed as he finished relieving himself. It was not the best way to introduce himself to his fellow prisoner, but he really had had little choice. Having a body dropped on top of him and then being jabbed by elbows and knees had made ignoring his body’s needs impossible. At least the dark provided a semblance of privacy.

      He was just trying to figure out where she was when he realized she was muttering to herself. Clyde Gowan had called her an impudent child, but there was something in that low, husky voice that made him think of a woman. After she had landed on him and he had caught his breath, there had been something about that soft, warm body that had also made him think of a woman, despite the lack of fulsome curves. He shook his head as he cautiously stepped toward that voice.

      Despite his caution, he took one step too many and came up hard against her back. She screeched softly and jumped, banging the top of her head against his chin. Gregor cursed softly as his teeth slammed together, sending a sharp, stinging pain through his head. He was a little surprised to hear her softly curse as well.

      “Jesu, lass,” he muttered, “ye

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