Although delighted, she wondered if she was foolish to feel so. Thayer was a warrior. It could soon eat at him, to know he could no longer freely answer any call to battle. He could well find it bitter to become a man of property only.
“But you could fight well if you felt the need to go? If the lure of battle tugged at you again?”
“Well enough, but battle holds no lure for me now.”
“You need not say that just to please me or still my fears.”
“I do not say it to please you, though I am glad it does. When I faced the Scots, there was no thrill, no desire for it any longer. All I wanted was to be done with it and come back to Riverfall. It was a just cause with the chance of a fine reward, yet I did not even feel a sense of victory when it was done.”
Twining her arms about his neck, she smiled with a relief she could not hide. “Has being a man of property tamed the Red Devil then?”
“Nay, a tiny angel with huge blue eyes has. The Red Devil is no more.”
“Well, I should not wish him to disappear from all places. Nor do I wish him to become too tame.”
“Oh? And where should you like this wild Red Devil to remain?”
“Here. In our bed. Mayhap one or two other places I have yet to think of. Right here—loving me.”
“I think I can pull him forth for that. Even a wild devil like him could not tire of loving and being loved by such an angel.”
“Even if he must do so forever? For that is what she demands.”
“Forever, my heart, just might not be long enough.”
New York Timesbestselling author Hannah Howell returns to the fateful realms of the Scottish Highlands, where a man’s destiny lies in the heart of the woman who once betrayed him…
Beaten and left for dead, Sir Lucas Murray is a man wounded in body and soul. He has brought himself back to becoming the warrior he once was—except for his ruined leg and the grief he feels over the death of the woman he once loved…the same woman who led him into enemies’ hands.
Dressed as a masked reiver, it is Katerina Haldane who saves Lucas as he battles for his life—and for revenge. Shocked that she still lives, Lucas becomes desperate to ignore the desire raging through his body. And Katerina becomes desperate to regain his trust, trying to convince him of her half-sister’s role in his beating. Lucas is reluctant to let down his guard, but his resistance melts once Katerina is back in his arms…and his bed. Now he must learn to trust his instincts—in battle and in love…
Please turn the page for an exciting
sneak peek at
Hannah Howell’s
HIGHLAND SAVAGE
coming in May 2007!
Scotland
Spring, 1481
His robes itched. Lucas gritted his teeth against the urge to throw them off and vigorously scratch every inch of his body he could reach. He did not know how his cousin Matthew endured wearing the things day in and day out. Since the man had happily dedicated his life to the service of God, Lucas did not think Matthew deserved such an excruciating penance. A mon willing to sacrifice so much for God ought to able to do so in more comfortable garb.
“This may have been a bad idea, Eachann,” Lucas murmured to his mount as he paused on a small rise to stare down at the village of Dunlochan.
His big brown gelding snorted and began to graze on the grass at his hooves.
“Weel, there is nay turning back now. Nay, I am but suffering a moment of uncertainty and it shames me. I have just ne’er been verra skilled in subterfuge, aye? Tis a blunt mon I am and this shall require me to be subtle and sly. But, ’tis nay a worry for I have been practicing.”
Lucas frowned at his horse and sternly told himself that the animal only sounded as if it had just snickered. On the other hand, if the animal could understand what he said, snickering would probably be an appropriate response. Yet, he had no choice. He needed revenge. It was a hunger inside him that demanded feeding. It was not something he could ask his family to risk themselves for either, although they had been more than willing to do so. That willingness was one reason he had had to slip away under the cover of night, telling no one where he was going, not even his twin.
This was his fight and his alone. Surrounded by the strong, skilled fighting men of his clan, he knew he would feel deprived of satisfying the other need he had. He needed to prove to himself that his injuries had not left him incapable of being the warrior he had been before he had been beaten. He needed to defeat the men who had tried to destroy him and defeat them all by himself. His family had not fully understood that need. They had not fully understood his need to work so hard, so continuously, to regain his skills after he had recovered from the beating either. He knew the praise they had given him as he had slowly progressed from invalid to fighting man had, in part, been an attempt to stop him from striving so hard to regain his former abilities, to overcome the stiffness and pain in his leg. He desperately needed to see that he was as good as he had been, that he had not been robbed of the one true strength he had. He had to prove himself worthy of being the heir to Donncoill.
“Artan would understand,” he said, stroking Eachann’s strong neck as he slowly rode down the hill toward the village.
