Free Tempting the Highlander by Michele Sinclair

few weeks. Reproof.
    Raelynd glared at Crevan’s back some more, wishing he could feel the sharp point of the evil stares she was giving him. She had been at it since they had started out in the hopes that he would look back and witness her scowls firsthand, but true to his contrary character, Crevan never snuck one peek. The man either somehow knew what she was doing or couldn’t care less.
    A reckless rabbit leaped in front of the group and Crevan instinctively tugged his reins to the right to keep his horse from rearing. The muscles in his back rippled with each quick movement as he gave commands to his mount. Like his brothers, Crevan was large, both in height and general physique, and possessed the McTiernay rich dark hair and bright blue eyes. But there the similarities ended. Something about how he held himself differentiated Crevan from not just his brothers but from every other man. He exuded a calm authority over those he engaged—a power Raelynd had always coveted but never mastered.
    Nothing the man did was big. He never spoke loudly or asserted himself in a flamboyant manner. His brother Craig tended to play that role, which was probably why he had been the one who had captured her attention during the past few months. But this afternoon the driving force behind much of the departing activities had not been Craig—but his brother.
    Crevan had been the one to enforce understanding of their current predicament and secure a reluctant agreement from her and her sister to become betrothed . . . at least for now. And it was he who had confronted Meriel about her luggage and placated her feelings by making only minor concessions, something close to a miracle. For Raelynd could not remember Meriel ever yielding to anyone about something she felt passionate. Crevan had also been the one to address questions coming from the servants. As Raelynd considered the events of the afternoon, she realized he had been behind most of today’s decisions. And though she would never admit it aloud, Raelynd admired him.
    Her father usually barked orders and her whole life she had done the same. Whenever pushed, she pushed back. Craig admired her independent style, but not Crevan. He was repulsed by it and for some reason, his disapproval bothered her. Enormously.
    Resigning to her initial impulse, Raelynd signaled her horse to move alongside Crevan’s. For the first time since they departed, he took his eyes off where they were headed and glanced at her. His blue eyes quickly darted over her form and then shifted to the back end of her horse where four overstuffed bags were attached to her mount’s flanks. Only two of the bags were the additional ones he agreed Meriel could bring. A single eyebrow rose.
    “Say nothing,” Raelynd warned him, and then added under her breath, “She begged me.”
    Crevan shot her a disarming half grin. It had been hard not to turn around while hearing Meriel ride only a few feet behind him. The woman was a nightmare on a horse. When she was in his peripheral view, he got a headache. But Raelynd was elegant and graceful, moving as one with the animal. “So, if Meriel was the one who was determined to bring two more bags, why are they not hooked to her saddle?”
    Raelynd let go a short huff. “You know why.”
    A rare grin transformed his normally hard face into one that was almost attractive. “You ride well. Why did your father not teach your sister?”
    Raelynd blinked. A smile and now a compliment? Both were rare and to her recollection, the first Crevan had ever bestowed upon her. “How did you know my father taught me?”
    Crevan jutted his chin toward her grip. “You hold the reins as he does.”
    Raelynd looked down. “Oh,” she replied, and then feeling the compulsory need to protect her sister, continued, “Meriel can ride—”
    “What she is doing is not riding,” Crevan countered. “She merely sits astride a large animal and if Craig wasn’t helping her, she would have fallen