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By Jude Deveraux

Bronwyn MacArran was once a proud Scot. Stephen Montgomery used to be one of many hated English.
He got here to Scotland as a conqueror, observed her attractiveness and used to be vanquished. yet nonetheless she may abhor him.
She owned a mood sizzling adequate to forge the armors of conflict or inflame a valiant soldier's ardour. but nonetheless she could face up to him.
She turned his cause to dwell, his cause to like. And nonetheless she may deny him.
yet whereas extended family fought extended family, whereas brother took up sword opposed to brother, and the highlands ran with blood -- their future was once made...and this robust warrior pledged himself to his woman's satisfaction, her honor and her identify -- and made from their love a torch to burn throughout the a while!

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Instantly Rab rose from his place at the foot of the tub, ready to attack. The men had barely a glimpse of Bronwyn before they were knocked off balance by a hundred and twenty pounds of snarling, sharp-toothed dog. Morag grabbed- Bronwyn's thin linen chemise and tossed it to her. She stood in the tub and hastily pulled it over her wet body, the hem of it falling into the water. She grabbed a woolen tartan from Morag as she stepped out of the tub. " Bronwyn ordered. The hound obeyed immediately, coming to her side.

She did not mention her older brother, Davey. "The Scots believe women have intelligence and strength of character. " Stephen grunted in reply, and Bronwyn had a delicious vision of smashing his head with a large rock. She smiled at the thought. As if understanding her, Rab lifted his big head and looked at her in question. Stephen seemed unaware of the exchange near him. " She gritted her teeth and tried to be patient. "I am the MacArran, and my men answer to me. " lie asked and turned toward her, but her breasts above the pearl-bordered neckline distracted him so badly that he had to look away in order to keep his composure.

She walked along the paths for quite some time before she finally sat down on a stone bench in front of a low wall. How she, wanted to go home! She wanted to get away from these foreigners, out of these foreign clothes, away from foreign men who looked at her only as a prize of war. " she asked. The man stepped forward. "Stephen Montgomery," he said quietly. He looked larger in the moonlight, towering over her. " "Why not? " Stephen sat beside her and watched as she controlled Rab with a single hand gesture.

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Highland Velvet by Jude Deveraux


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