Page 3 of The Highlander’s Kilted Affair

Pushing himself from the wall, the persistent pest turned to look behind him. Evelyn struggled not to gasp again, for the man stood there was not only the most handsome man she had ever seen, he was also huge. He was a great wall of a man, nearly as tall as he was broad, with blonde hair. He had the look of a Viking and his piercing green eyes were currently locked in some kind of battle with the man now standing facing him.

“I dinnae think it’s any o’ yer damned business,” the man growled.

“It is when ye’re making the lass feel uncomfortable,” her savior, may the Gods bless him, growled back. “And, clearly,” he nodded toward Evelyn, “ye are.”

“We were just talking.”

“Nay,” the huge man replied. “Ye were talking. She was terrified. Now, move on, before I move ye on.”

For a second, the arrogant pursuer stood his ground, clearly too proud to do as he was told. The huge man then straightened his shoulders and puffed out his chest. The action made him look three inches taller.

“Fine,” the other man submitted. Trying to maintain his dignity as he shifted, he said, “She’s a prude anyway.”

Evelyn looked mortified, but relief flooded through her as he turned on his heels and stormed away.

Her savior watched the man go, before turning back to her. Taking a step forward, he gazed down at her with concern. “Are ye all right?” His tone was now far gentler than only seconds before.

For a moment, Evelyn was too lost in his swirling green eyes to answer. He was striking, as though the gods had carved his face by their own hand. Her own face flooded with heat again at what had transpired, and suddenly, she felt the need to escape. She wanted to be anywhere but there.

“Ye must excuse me,” she said hurriedly. “I need a breath o’ air.”

Before he had chance to reply, she darted around him and moved quickly out of the great hall.

Hurrying down the corridor, avoiding the eyes of those merrily celebrating around her, she rushed around a corner. That corridor was far quieter, and with no other people around, she tried the handle of the first door she came to. Evelyn, looking about her and realizing it was a library, stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind her. Leaning her body against it, she took in a deep breath.

Pushing herself off the door, she paced back and forth in the room. The experience had unnerved her, and try as she might, she could not rid her mind of what might have happened had she not have been saved. Either she’d have been forced against her will, or she’d have ended up scratching the oaf’s eyes out.

But all is good now, Evelyn. Ye are safe. Ye need tae calm yersel’.

Yes, she did. She also needed to go and find Yvaine. It was getting late. They still had an hour or so to travel, and as fun as sneaking away to the Mackay’s wedding had been, she did not want her father to discover they had left.

Straightening her dress, she turned to walk towards the library door, when it opened, and the huge, handsome stranger stepped inside. Upon discovering her, he frowned with concern. “There ye are. Are ye all right, Miss?”

Evelyn automatically stepped back. “I am fine. Thank ye.”

He shook his head. “Ye didnae look too fine when I found ye. MacKinley is a rake at best, but he has the awareness o’ a snail.”

A trickle of laughter fell from Evelyn’s lips, and, at the same time, the tension that had wound in her body seemed to ease.

“I apologize. I didnae even thank ye fer yer intervention. So, thank ye. He certainly is a persistent man.” And a halfwit.

“Aye,” the huge man rolled his eyes. “That’s putting it mildly.” He paused for a second, before looking at her carefully. “But I can understand his interest.”

Evelyn’s eyebrows went up.

“Nay, please.” He lifted his hands in surrender. “I’m naething like him. I’m merely observing the fact that ye are a very beautiful lass. That’s all.”

She felt her face flush and dropped her gaze at his words. In stark contrast, she did not fear this man like she had the other. His words were kind, and even the way he looked at her was different. His gaze was gentle, whereas MacKinley had leered at her like she was something to eat.

“Thank ye,” she breathed, feeling as though it was good manners to acknowledge the compliment.

He took another step toward her. It was slow and measured. He still watched her carefully, as though he was gauging how his approach might affect her. “I couldnae help overhearing some o’ yer conversation,” he said in a tender tone.

“Really?” Evelyn replied, now feeling a little breathless. Perhaps it was the way he was gazing at her. Perhaps it was the fact that he was indeed, a striking specimen of a man.

“Aye,” he said, taking another step. He was now only a few feet away. “I heard ye tell MacKinley that ye’ve never been kissed ‘afore.”

Another wave of heat washed over Evelyn, and again, she dropped her gaze. “I only said that tae be rid o’ him,” she breathed.