Free Once Upon A Highland Christmas by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

bliss, of how inappropriate a wife she would make him. A village commoner without even a dowry, and him a great warring man of noble blood and so well respected.
    Glancing at the door, she cleared her throat. “We should be going. The MacGregors—”
    “Surely, you’d rather rest a night?” Malcolm’s wife, Moira, was suddenly beside Breena, her lovely face warm and sympathetic. “Enjoy fine company, a good meal, then a hot bath and fresh bed?
    “You’ll be glad you stayed.” She leaned in, lowering her voice. “I’ve noticed you’re walking a bit stiffly. I’m not keen on riding either and know how you feel. Let your man see to your comfort before you journey on.”
    “Indeed!” Fergus winked at her, his apparent exceptional hearing making Breena blush to the roots of her hair. “I insist you stay.”
    “That’s very kind of you.” Breena didn’t know else what to say.
    She did smile, doing her best to play the part she and Grim had agreed upon, to pretend that they were a happily betrothed pair, soon to be married, deeply in love.
    How she wished they were.
    In truth, this
was
her big chance.
    She hadn’t even considered the possibility of sharing a bed with Grim before they’d set off on their journey.
    The notion of bathing in the same room as him was even more jarring.
    And—the gods help her—so tantalizingly wicked, she could hardly stand still for the delicious tingles whipping across her womanhood. Equally bad was the slow, languorous heat pooling so deep in her belly, low by her thighs. Her other worries vanished like mist before the morning sun. Such a fierce reaction surely meant she was wanton.
    How shocking that she didn’t care.
    She did glance at Grim.
    He was leaning against the wall beside the hearth, his arms crossed and his beautiful gray eyes hooded. No, thoughtful. When he lifted his gaze and looked at her, she knew exactly what he was going to say.
    “I thank you, Fergus.” He pushed away from the wall and came forward, carefully lifting his wolfskin cloak and then Breena’s own woolen mantle from her shoulders. Crossing the room, he hung them on pegs near the door. “My lady and I gladly accept your offer. We’ll appreciate your company, and a room for the night. Indeed, we have much to speak of with you. The hours at your table will serve us well.”
    Breena stopped hearing him the moment he agreed for them to spend the night at the farm. Her blood was rushing too loudly in her ears to catch the rest.
    There was no going back now.
    Her destiny was in her hands, another Yuletide surprise, and one she’d never expected.
    She just hoped she could do what she must: convince Grim to stop thinking of her as only a lady.
    She was also a woman.
    And she hoped, believed, that despite their difference in backgrounds, she could be more to him than a lover in his arms. She wanted to be his wife.
    She wished that by the morrow’s sunrise, he’d agree.

Chapter Five
    The night wind howled around the Munzie farmhouse as Grim, Fergus, and Malcolm sat at the long wooden table, enjoying their tankards of ale. Bright red holly berries glistened against the pristine white tablecloth, the sprigs of greenery joining a cluster of fine, beeswax candles to lend a festive air. A large plate of Flora’s aromatic spice cakes tempted, tasty as they were. A trace of roasted goose also lingered, the scrumptious scent almost irresistible.
    Grim knew a generous portion of the goose waited unattended on a platter in Flora’s kitchen. There were even two untouched capons. He’d be welcome to fetch more of the succulent meat, as much as he desired.
    He didn’t care.
    His mind was elsewhere.
    Despite the purpose of his journey and with Christmas Eve less than three nights away, his thoughts were entirely on Breena.
    He was ridiculously besotted. More so than he would ever have believed possible. He couldn’t stand being in the same room with her and not touching her.
    He did watch her, though he