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From Chapter 4
For a moment she considered going back into the storage room and pulling some more of the strings, after all. Something was bound to frighten him. She’d like nothing better than to see him fleeing shirtless into the night— and only because shirtless meant he’d panicked. Not because he looked
As she’d said, they needed to make certain that this duke would leave of his own accord and, just as importantly, never wish to return. His arrival had set the household— and the countryside—on its ear, and yes, that seemed to be her fault. She’d decided not to let a nose- in- the- air solicitor order her about, and apparently that had consequences. She should have known better, but no one had bothered to be concerned about Lattimer until the old duke’s death had revealed that his own solicitors hadn’t done their jobs. Her lack of cooperation, though, meant that no one had felt it necessary to inform her either that a new duke had been found, or that he was heading north for a visit.
First thing in the morning she needed to go speak with Oscar Ritchie. The head groom at least knew of
Finally she shut herself inside her own
Her mind centered on how to best be rid of this large, troublesome Englishman, and her drifting thoughts swirled about a fresh bullet scar on a muscular arm, an assessing pair of light gray eyes, and a mouth that seemed almost cruel until he grinned. And when he kissed her
Gabriel pushed aside the heavy curtains, then stilled with his hands gripping the green, linen- lined silk. “Good God,” he breathed, his bare feet, the chill in the air, the rumbling hunger in his stomach, all forgotten.
Before him, stretching out over perhaps half a hundred miles, lay the Scottish Highlands. The land directly beyond Lattimer’s formal gardens sloped off gently to the shore of a vast blue lake that curved to the east out of sight beyond a cluster of tumbled ruins on the rocky bank. Trees edged down to the western shore and up the hill beyond, with patches of purple heather and thistle carpeting open meadows. Beyond the lake, rough, rock- tumbled hills lifted into craggy white mountains which stood starkly silhouetted by the rising sun.
Of all the places he’d been in the world, of all the things he’d seen, this
He’d known since he’d first donned a uniform that he was made for war. The idea of people trying to kill him, the violence, the cold and the heat, the long days of battle and the
Gabriel took a slow breath. He knew battle. And Lattimer had just become his battleground. If he looked at it that way, the castle was his command tent. The Highlands
Every good victory came with a prize, and she would be his. That didn’t mean, however, that he was going to let her make more trouble while she was here. If she thought riding out early would keep her clear of him or give her the opportunity to gather reinforcements, she didn’t know him at all. In addition, somewhere between the
Copyright © 2016 by Suzanne Enoch and reprinted by permission of St. Martin’s Press
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