Free The Highlander's Accidental Bride by Cathy MacRae

pay to get them, perhaps she was better off without children!
    But what of the kisses that stirred her so? Were they merely a ploy to sway her into letting the man invade her body? Eaden’s kisses certainly made her lose her senses and self-control. She sighed. Since she was about to be divorced, she’d see to it he didn’t kiss her again.
    Now that she knew what to do, she felt better, and rose to her feet. Walking to the fireplace and the oval mirror hanging above it, Mary stared at herself with Eaden’s words in her head. Were her eyes a pretty green? She studied them, opening her lids wide to judge their true color. They were nice enough, she supposed, a bright, clear green rimmed in black.
    She tossed her head, watching as her hair bounced about her shoulders. The color seemed pretty, and if the sun struck it just right, a bit of gold did flash within it. Her curls, however, had always been a trial. If she wore her hair up, it quickly worked its way loose. And if she left it unbound, it tangled and snarled in a most aggravating manner. She’d kept it braided for the past few days, covering it with a scarf or veil, the unruly strands somewhat under control. With a shudder, she remembered the way sparks had shot along her scalp when Eaden ran his fingers through her loose tresses. Perhaps she should keep it better confined.
    Her eyes filled with tears. I want to go home.

CHAPTER 9
    Eaden strode through the great hall and out to the stables. Although intent on cleaning his horse’s tack, Ranald glanced up. Eaden held out a restraining hand to ward off his brother’s questions and saddled Duff with angry efficiency. With a look of concern, Ranald rose to saddle his own horse.
    “I need to clear my head,” Eaden muttered by way of explanation as he swung up onto his horse.
    “Aye. And ye need someone to watch yer back,” Ranald replied grimly. Eaden bit back a rebuff, knowing the dangers of riding the mountain trails alone. Too impatient to summon further retainers or soldiers for his protection, he scowled but accepted Ranald’s company.
    Eaden rode from the stable, spurring the horse into a dead run before they cleared the castle gate, leaving his most immediate troubles far behind.
    After riding the trail for several minutes, he reined the stallion back toward the river, though the horse was far from winded and pulled at the bit in protest. Ranald drew his own horse to a walk beside him.
    “Leave me,” Eaden snapped, in no mood for company or conversation. Ranald withdrew to a promontory near the river with a view of the trail and surrounding hills. Eaden threw himself from the saddle as soon as the horse cantered to a plodding walk, and set off across the ground in angry, pounding strides.
    How dare she demand a divorce! His thoughts infuriated him even as he ignored the pride he felt whenever Mary stood up for herself. He couldn’t explain why he’d teased her and then kissed her a few minutes ago, but he’d been unable to stop himself and his blood still ran hot from their encounter.
    He wheeled abruptly, heading for the cooling embrace of the river. Duff followed close on his heels, trailing his reins in the grass. As soon as Eaden spotted the sparkling waters, he wrenched away his clothes, flinging them to the ground. Two steps later he launched himself into a faultless shallow dive and sliced into the cold water, certain he heard it sizzle against his heated skin.
    It took several moments for his blood to begin to cool, even in the cold river water, but soon his head cleared and he stroked to a pool eddying gently against the bank, away from the main current. Rolling onto his back, he floated there, staring at the clouds churning lazily across the sky.
    He still could not understand how the lass had gotten under his skin. He was known in two countries as a man long on patience and courage and the good of his country at heart. In less than two weeks he’d all but forfeited the backing of his king,