Free Seduced by Destiny by Kira Morgan

hissed.
    “If ye want it,” Drew yelled, “ye’ll have to come and get it!”
    The housekeeper appeared at another window, opening the shutters to see what all the shouting was about.
    The last thing a spy wanted was attention. Josselin hadn’t even started on her first assignment, and already her vow of secrecy
     was being jeopardized.
    Though it chafed against every fiber of her being to come at the man’s beckoning, Josselin had no other recourse. As quietly
     and calmly as she could, she retraced her steps. But under her breath, she cursed the smirking Highlander every step of the
     way.
    Of course, she was nearly as vexed with herself as she was with Drew. Entrusted with a task by the queen’s secretary not two
     hours ago, she’d already lost her first message and endangered her first mission. What kind of a spy would she make if she
     let frivolous passions distract her from the queen’s business?
    Sobered by her own lapse of judgment and with newfound resolve, Josselin stopped before Drew and held her hand out for the
     missive.
    The Highlander, too, seemed to have collected his wits since she’d stormed off. He was back to his grinning, cocksure, irritating
     self.
    “I knew ye couldn’t stay away,” he teased.
    She arched a brow. “And I knew ye couldn’t leave without stealin’ somethin’.”
    He coughed as if she’d punched him, then snickered and shook his head. He placed the note in her palm, closingher fingers gently over it. To her mortification, she actually shivered at his touch.
    “Ye’d best hold on tight, lass,” he murmured with a knowing smirk. “I’d hate to see ye lose your ‘invitation to the royal
     supper.’ ”
    His sarcasm gave her pause. Had the cad read the missive,
her
missive?
    Of course he had. Who would be able to resist? How else would he know it belonged to her?
    She glanced uncertainly at the Highlander, whose eyes danced with mirth.
    ’Twas no laughing matter. She’d signed an oath of allegiance to Queen Mary. She’d sworn that if ever she were compromised,
     she’d take her own life rather than reveal her identity as the queen’s spy. If he’d read the note…
    “Go on, lass,” he urged, his gaze grazing her suggestively from head to toe, “ere ye lose both your note
and
your trews.”
    Josselin fumed. He was a vile, vile man. She couldn’t believe she’d let him… let him…
    ’Twas too terrible to think about.
    “Mind your own bloody affairs,” she snapped, shoving the note into her belt, and whipping smartly about to march back toward
     the inn. “All o’ ye!” she shouted to the small mob of curious onlookers that now leaned out of the windows over the lane,
     chasing them back inside.
    Halfway to the door, she turned back toward Drew to fire off one last warning. “If ye know what’s best for ye,” she hissed,
     sliding her knife halfway out of its sheath in threat, “ye’ll forget what ye read in that note.”
    He turned away with a grin, tossing a lazy wave of farewell over his shoulder.
    “Silly lass,” he called back. “Highlanders can’t read.”

Chapter 11
    D rew liked to think of himself as a lone wolf, roaming the woods of Scotland on his own, keeping to the shadows, never forming
     attachments, never staying in one place too long. At choice spots, he’d emerge to feed on the native prey, then return to
     the sanctuary of the forest.
    So the fact that he’d been in Edinburgh long enough for the innkeeper at The Sheep Heid to start calling him by name and for
     the tavern wench to have memorized his favorite brew was completely against his usual conduct.
    He’d lingered for two weeks after the queen’s procession, playing consecutive golf matches at Musselburgh, Berwick, Carnoustie,
     and St. Andrews, and winning most of them. To his chagrin, the wagering crowd was beginning to think of Drew MacAdam as a
     local favorite.
    He justified his loitering, saying ’twas foolish to leave while he was on a winning streak.
    He