Free HIGHLANDER: The Highlander’s Surrender Bride (Scottish Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) by Serena Vale, Tencia Winters Page A

felt like she would be waiting her Layla when she got home with a big cup of hot tea and her cinnamon cookies that her mom knew were her favorite.
                  Layla stomped out into the expensive marble lobby, and just as she was passing the bank of elevators, filled with lawyers, and other employees of Hawke and Harrison, the right heel of her towering stiletto broke off with an audible snap. Gasping, and caught by surprise by the sudden unevenness, she tried to lean back and regain her sense of balance. But it was too late. Her groan of embarrassment at toppling over in front of all those people turned into an oof as a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, catching her at the last minute.
                  “Hey, are you okay?” The warm, accented voice whispered too close to her ear, sending an alarming wave of pleasure rushing through her. It took her a moment to find her voice.
                  “Um, yes…yes, I think so.” She slipped out of her now mismatched heels. “Thanks to you.” Layla looked up into his eyes, and was struck speechless again. Silver blue eyes stared down at her from the face of a demi-god. Thick black hair curled heedlessly around his ears, just brushing his jawline. He swept it back as if out of habit, but the motion took her breath away completely as every muscle across his impressive chest and shoulders flexed in perfect symmetry.
                  Layla was not a small girl, she thought of her burgundy, size fourteen dress that hugged her ample hourglass curves, but this giant of a man made her feel down right petite. He towered over her, especially now that she now longer had the added five inches from her high heels that took her from her normal five and half feet to almost six.
                  He led her over to a row of cushy armchairs that made up the waiting area just inside the lobby, and she sat, looking helplessly at the ruined shoes. It was the last nice pair she owned, the only one she’d kept after selling everything that she could, trying to raise extra money. She tried to keep the desperation at bay, but inevitably, it welled up, overwhelming her after yet another painful rejection.
                  “I thought you said you were okay? Are you hurt?” The stranger who had saved her asked as he took the seat next to her, examining her for any injury. Layla gestured with one dark, delicate hand in the air, waving away his concern.
                  “No, no it’s not that.” Layla protested. “I wasn’t hurt, I swear, it’s just…” She paused, taking a deep breath, trying to stem the flood of tears that she could feel welling just behind her big, dark eyes.
                  “What? What is it then?” In an unexpectedly tender gesture, he tucked one lock of wavy, brown hair behind her ear. “You look so sad, vozlyublennaya .” That meant sweetheart, she knew, in Russian. She had lived there for almost a year in college as part of a study abroad program.
                  Before she knew what she was doing, before she could even stop herself, the words were tumbling out of her mouth. The entire story about going to law school with dreams of becoming a high powered lawyer, the last year of upheaval with her mother’s death, suddenly finding herself up to her ears in debt, and about to lose the only home she had ever known. And now, she didn’t even have a job.
                  Layla knew it had been a long shot, applying at one of the best law firms in the country, but she was out of options. Desperate. After she was done telling the handsome stranger her sad story, she couldn’t meet his hard eyed gaze, and so she turned away, scanning the now empty lobby as she tried to calm her racing heart.
                  Her breath caught as she felt his strong fingers under her chin, tilting her head toward him, making her look at him. There