Free Haunted Warrior by Allie Mackay Page A

drink whisky.” She glanced at her watch and started to get to her feet. If she didn’t leave now, she’d also tell him she couldn’t abide Romeos, Scottish or otherwise. “It’s late and—­”
    “You’d miss something very fine.” He smiled, apparently certain his charm would dissuade her. “Scottish whisky is water of life.
Uisge beatha
, in the Gaelic. You can’t visit Scotland without—­ Ah, here’s Janet with the drams.”
    He glanced up at the tight-­lipped woman, his smile not wavering as she set down the two small glasses. The whisky neat, save one ice cube in each dram.
    “Aye, a ray o’ sunshine, you are, Janet.” He watched her march off, waiting until she disappeared into the kitchen before he turned back to Kendra. “You see why you’re a breath of fresh air.”
    Kendra glanced at the closed kitchen door. “I saw a woman who must’ve gotten up on the wrong side of the bed this morning—­nothing more.”
    She didn’t add that she suspected Janet did so every day.
    Or that she couldn’t stand smooth talkers. Dressed as she was in her sturdy walking boots and warm and comfortable pants and pullover, she knew well that she looked anything but glamorous.
    She didn’t even like glamour.
    And she wouldn’t be a sleek beauty if she was wearing a string bikini.
    She might be tall and her legs therefore long. But there all resemblance to such females ended. And the truth was, she didn’t mind her extra few pounds. She also appreciated shoes and clothes that were comfortable.
    No one would catch her in heeled, strappy sandals. And she wouldn’t don a filmy wisp of a cling-­to-­every-­curve dress even if she could.
    She did sit up as straight as possible and pushed the little dram glass away from her. “My dinner should be here soon.” She kept her tone cordial, pride making flight impossible.
    So she tipped her head toward the bar, hoping her unwanted table guest would take the hint. “I don’t want to keep you from your friends.”
    To her dismay, he sat back, getting comfortable in his chair. “I like a challenge.” His blue eyes met hers, his smile roguish.
    “And you”—­he glanced to a nearby table where an older couple were eating fish and chips—­“would’ve done better to order Iain’s lamb shank.” When he turned back to her, he looked her over, letting his gaze skim her breasts. “The flesh is tender and succulent—­”
    “Kendra, lass!” Graeme MacGrath’s deep voice filledthe room, the outside door banging shut as he approached the table with long, purposeful strides. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I hope you haven’t been troubled.”
    “Graeme…” Kendra blinked, never more glad to see anyone in her life. He was almost at her side, his dog trotting right beside him.
    Anyone who saw the look on his face had to think he was madly in love with her.
    And that if he could tear his gaze off her long enough to do so, he’d knock Ramsay flat for daring to have glanced her way. Sitting at her table, speaking to her, and buying her a dram might well prove fatal.
    That was the air he had about him.
    Kendra’s heart raced, her pulse leaping to see his dark eyes blazing with such intensity.
    Apparently noticing, Gavin Ramsay stood. “I didn’t know you knew our seal man.” He spoke to Kendra, but his gaze was on Graeme, his blue eyes hard now. His smiles and innuendoes vanished.
    “She’s here to visit me.” Graeme didn’t even glance at Ramsay.
    Instead, he shouldered past him and looked down at Kendra, his mouth set in a tight, determined line. His eyes narrowed into the expression a man might wear before jumping into an abyss.
    “Come here, you.” He circled an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him in a swift, bone-­crushing hug that took her breath.
    Pressed against him, Kendra felt delicious heat sweep her even before he lowered his head to nuzzle the sensitive spot beneath her ear. His hair, still ponytailed, swung forward to brush her