Free To Desire a Highlander by Sue-Ellen Welfonder Page B

have ever known.” He took a long, slow sip of ale.
    Something about the intensity of his perusal, the deep richness of his voice, caused a fluttering in her belly. A startling flurry of tingly warmth, surprisingly pleasant, but also troubling because the sensations rippled across places she wanted well guarded from Donell MacDonnell.
    He smiled and inclined his head as if he knew.
    Gillian hoped not.
    She also didn’t flinch. She was a chieftain’s daughter, however rascally her sire. She carried the blood of many more leaders before him. Her spine was forged of steel, and fire ran in her veins. She’d been born to courage. Noone backed her into a corner, certainly not the huge, dark-eyed, hard-muscled man sitting across from her. If a thrill of excitement ran through her just looking at him, such feelings were surely caused by knowing she’d soon see the last of him.
    She was certain of victory.
    Hadn’t his eyes lit at her mention of treasure? A prize so precious, she could only show him behind closed doors. He’d looked at her in lust, revealing he’d misunderstood. He’d suspected she’d strip before him, using feminine wiles to see her will done. He’d expect to bed her in exchange for breaking their betrothal.
    Gillian glanced at the hall’s high-set windows. The sky was gray and slightly luminous, swirly mist drifting past the narrow openings.
    Soon, evening would be upon them.
    Her rendezvous with the man who thought to put his hands on her naked flesh, possessing and ravishing her, taking her innocence as his due.
    He thought to breed with her.
    Gillian could feel a flush heating her face. She knew he wanted her. She’d seen the same look on her brothers’ faces when they were out sailing and they’d dropped anchor near a shore-side tavern. The kind known for lusty, eager-to-please serving wenches, always ready to air their skirts. Donell clearly planned to get beneath hers.
    She’d also heard scraps of gossip about him over the years. Shocking tales, whispered in Sway’s kitchens when no one knew she was about. Rumor was he had an unhealthy interest in bosoms. Hadn’t he devoured hers with his gaze, just moments ago? Gillian felt loathing unfurl inside her. She wasn’t about to bare her breastsfor him, perform the spectacles Sway’s serving wenches swore he craved so hungrily.
    A shame her breasts were full, firm, and round. The sort she knew men appreciated. How she wished they were better covered now, hidden behind a shawl or shapeless gown.
    Above all, she hoped Viking silver and gold would prove of greater value.
    Not liking the cold knot sitting so heavily in her stomach, she clasped her hands on the crisp white table linen and did her best to appear calm. She straightened her back a bit more, hoping her cool mien and stiff posture would dampen Donell’s amorous ambitions.
    His slow, lazy smile said that wasn’t so.
    “Are you no’ hungry?” He arched a brow, a hint of amusement in his peat-brown eyes. A dimple flashed above his beard, making him dangerously attractive in a bold, roguish way. He reached to tap the tip of his eating knife to her plate, his hand brushing her forearm. “You havenae touched your venison.”
    “I have now.” She snared a piece of the perfectly roasted meat, popping it into her mouth, chewing carefully. She also tried to ignore how his warm skin lighting against hers sent an unexpected swirl of hot tingles across her female parts. How could such a known beast stir such a reaction? Furious, she forced herself to swallow the meat.
    It tasted like muck.
    She knew the venison was delicious. Her father’s cook had preroasted the haunch at Castle Sway, seasoning it with secret spices. Then he’d prepared the meat for the sea journey so that her brothers needed only to place the haunch on a spit and stoke the fire.
    “Such a delicacy is a rare delight.” Donell spoke low, provocative. His gaze was even more disconcerting, steady on hers. “Such a feast