Free Plight of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation Book 5) by Sky Purington

moment she first touched him at the Highland Defiance.
    A small smile came to her lips as her thoughts rolled back in time…
     
    “Care to dance, lass?”
    His deep voice burned a path into places she didn’t know existed. Torra was so wrapped up in thoughts of the handsome MacLeod she’d just met outside the Highland Defiance that it took a moment to realize he now held out his hand to her.
    Dance? With him ? Aye. Then his hand slipped into hers and pure fire sizzled over her skin. It almost seemed he felt it too because his heated gaze shot to hers. He’d no sooner swung her into the crowd before he pulled her close, a charming smile on his face.
    His lips came close to her ear, words low. “What is yer name?”
    “Torra,” she whispered then cleared her throat and tried again. This time her voice worked. “Torra.”
    “Torra,” he murmured as if he savored it on his tongue. “‘Tis a truly bonnie name.”
    “And yours?” she managed, eyes sliding shut when his lips stayed close to her ear, his warm breath fanning the delicate flesh just beneath.
    “Colin,” he said.
    Colin. How ironic in that her oldest brother shared the same name. But she related it with strength and protection so found it suited him. When she gave no response he pulled back slightly and Torra’s breath caught. His eyes were the color of silver gleaming in the sun and she swore she saw a flicker of actual fire in them.
    In that extraordinary moment, she for the first time felt not fear but a softening toward the dragon within. His eyes registered shock then something else as he touched her cheek tenderly. His voice was deeper, more emotional, when he murmured, “ Nathair sgiathach .”
    Torra tensed.
    He spoke of the dragon.
    “How?” she started, voice strangled as she shook her head and pulled away. “How do you know that?”
    Nobody knew what she was other than Iosbail, Adlin and the kings. How did this stranger know simply by looking into her eyes? When she tried to flee, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back against him. His muscled arm wrapped around her lower back.
    “Shh.” He cupped the back of her neck, trapping her. She had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Dinnae fear me, lass. I willnae hurt ye.” His eyes searched hers, his voice quiet lest others hear. “I’m a wizard. My element is fire. There can be no other reason why I see so clearly what sleeps within you.”
    Torra shook her head slightly. Impossible. Her uncle Ferchar was a wizard who controlled fire and he did not see the dragon within. “Nay,” she murmured, upset. “‘Tis impossible. There must be more.”
    “Must there be?” 
    But they both knew there was more...so very much more.
     
    “‘Tis strange, the sound of drums,” Colin said.
    Torra blinked. Ripped from the past, she was startled to see that Colin had already returned from his swim and now rewrapped his plaid.
    Surprised, she realized drums were playing in the distance, the rhythmic percussion a potently sensual sound when mixed with the pipes. The tribal beat almost seemed to match the heavy thud of her heart. Leave it to Iosbail to introduce something so in-tune and appropriate to their circumstances. Then again, few reveled in the paganism of their past more than Adlin’s sister so it somehow suited.
    Colin crouched and braced his hands on either side of her, concerned eyes searching hers. “So now you’ve had a taste of whiskey. How are you?”
    Torra suddenly found it amusing that they kept their brogues lighter so that those from the twenty-first century could better understand them. It had quickly become habit for her but liked that Colin did it as well. It said much about his devotion to her.
    “The whiskey is good.” She smiled. “So far it has not overly affected me. At least I dinnae think as much.”
    Yet again, the dark night suddenly seemed more vibrant with him near. It almost felt as though the log beneath her vanished and she drifted, hovered almost.