Free CursedLaird by Tara Nina

statue. A
sizzle hissed through the air and static electricity lifted the few loose
strands of hair from her braid. The heat level rose around her, but she refused
to budge. Instead, she regained her balance and closed the short distance
between her and the rock. Without checking, she knew Mary’s eyes were locked on
the statue.
    A huge crack appeared. Bright light shot from the inside and
she used her forearm as a shield and squinted. The statue shattered and
crumbled into pieces at her feet, leaving behind a very disoriented man. Her
jaw dropped and her eyes widened as she lowered her arm to her side. This
couldn’t have happened. Before she moved, angered words spoken on a thick
Scottish brogue in ancient Gaelic heated her cheeks as he sprang at her.
    His momentum shoved her back against the wall with him pressed
tight against her. A solid man of muscle held her pinned as he rapidly made
demands in a tongue she couldn’t quite understand.
    “Just slow down,” she gasped. He held her by the neck with
one massive hand and his face leveled with hers. She refused to back down
though he intimidated the hell out of her. Keeping her wits about her, she took
as much of a breath as his grip allowed and decided to speak in a tongue
similar to Mary’s. “Ye have to slow your speech. Mi Gaelic is rusty.” She
prayed he understood, even though she lied about knowing much of the Gaelic
tongue.
    His brows furrowed and his grip loosened. At first she took
this as a good sign until he did the unexpected. His hand shifted to cup the
back of her head and his lips captured her mouth in a rough, demanding kiss. It
happened so quickly, she had no time to think. She simply reacted. Everything
the O’Reillys taught her took over.
    Right knee, swift and hard to the balls, followed by a solid
jab to the ribs caused her assailant to crumple into a heap. He gasped for air,
trying to cup his jewels with one hand, while holding his side with the other.
She jumped over him and stood beside Mary, who wrapped a transparent arm around
her waist as if she could tug her into a protective hug.
    “What did ye say?” Mary’s puzzled gaze met hers and all she
could do was shrug. She didn’t know what she’d said that sufficed such a
reaction. She placed a gap between her and Mary to ward off the chill being so
close to the spirit caused. Her nipples hardened to sharp points and she didn’t
want the giant brute to get the wrong impression, so she hid them beneath
crossed arms over her chest.
    Carefully, she tested her battered lips with the tip of her
tongue. His flavor teased her taste buds and ignited a hunger for more, which
shocked her. Never had anyone kissed her so roughly. True, he’d shoved her up
against the wall, but instead of invoking fear, she noted she liked it and
wanted more. Oh god, what was wrong with her? Caledonia closed her eyes,
momentarily sealing off the vision of the gorgeous hunk slumped on his knees.
    Mary’s voice caused Caledonia to focus on his every move. If
he so much as lunged at the tender spirit, she’d… Well, she wasn’t exactly sure
what she’d do but she’d do something. Even though she didn’t think he could
actually hurt a ghost if he attacked her.
     
    Crouched on the floor, he took a moment to regroup. Och ,
the boireannach , woman, grounded him with a sharp knee to his balls.
Sucking a breath between clenched teeth, he cupped himself and scouted his surroundings
through lowered lids. Nothing familiar came into sight. Slow, deliberate
movements of his head from one side to the other garnered him a limited visual,
but he sensed only the boireannach stood behind him and nay one else.
    He’d awoken in a place other than home. Had he been taken
captive? Where was he? Where were his brathairs , his family? What
happened to MacGillivray? There was no doubt that the mongrel was behind this
plot. Anger mixed with confusion as he tried to clear his head. A rich, feminine
scent teased his senses, reminding