A CHOICE...
Laird Magnus Sutherland loves women. His prowess in the bedchamber has earned him the
name Devil of Dunrobin, but no woman has ever stirred his heart. Magnus needs to
provide
his clan with an heir, which is the only reason he agrees to marry the neighboring
chieftain’s sister. When his betrothed arrives, he discovers the chieftain has two
sisters. If Magnus must bind himself to one woman, he intends to discover which is
best
suited to be his wife, for he wants more than a body to plant his seed. He wants a
mate
for life.
A CHALLENGE...
There are three reasons Lady Effie Reay refuses to vie for Laird Sutherland’s
affections…
For one, she is thirty-two and would surely lose a competition to her beautiful,
younger
sister. Secondly, Laird Sutherland is a well-reputed rake, and she holds no desire to
wed another faithless man. And thirdly, the sight of him makes her tingle, shiver and
ache.
Will Effie be successful in thwarting Magnus’ advances, or will her body succumb to a
temptation that can only lead to heartbreak?
Read an Excerpt
They were perfect for one another, Effie decided as Laird Sutherland entered the Great
Hall. Four of his kinsmen trailed him, all braw and thickly built, but none possessed
the chieftain’s dominating presence. Hair, black as a raven’s eye, lay disheveled
about
his shoulders with a braid falling from each temple to mark his status. A sea-green
and
pale blue plaide, perfectly pleated, draped over a clean léine shirt, but what
impressed
her most was the arsenal he wore on his person—a basketsword hung from his hip, two
daggers sheathed at his waist and the black handle of a sgian dubh poked out the top
of
deerskin boots.
He was a good match for Effie’s younger half sister, as well as Clan Mackay. Their
union
would make their clans a fearsome beast to behold. Clan Sutherland was known for their
prowess in battle. They were powerful enough to protect themselves as well as Effie’s
clan. The truth of the matter was, Clan Mackay needed Clan Sutherland more than Clan
Sutherland needed the Mackays. And her brother knew it, which is one of the reasons
Ian
had traded their sister for an alliance after Da died.
The other reason was simple—Ian was as eager as Effie to see Vanna wed. Effie had
taken
over Vanna’s tutelage after Da ousted Vanna’s mam from the clan four years past. At
nineteen, Vanna knew her letters and could manage a household, but Effie feared her
sister might be a wee bit loose with her legs. Given Laird Sutherland’s lascivious
reputation, Effie suspected he might find such a quality agreeable, so long as the
girl
took care not to spread her legs for his kinsmen.
’Twas a mistake Vanna’s mam had made.
Effie shook the thought out of her mind. Vanna was not to blame for Besse’s
transgressions.
“Think ye the chieftain will like me?” Vanna swished long black hair over her shoulder
and fiddled with the brooch pinning the heavy wool of her arisaid.
“The man agreed to the union in writing six months past. It matters naught if he likes
ye.” The worry stitching Vanna’s thin black brows together made Effie wince. She would
do well to remember Vanna was the daughter Da had coddled throughout her adolescence,
unlike Effie who’d had two bairns in the nursery by nineteen. “I suspect ye will have
Laird Sutherland feeding ye roasted almonds before dawn.” Effie gave her sister’s cold
fingers a reassuring squeeze then stepped into her brother’s shadow where she
belonged.
“Laird Mackay, welcome to Dunrobin.” The chieftains embraced in a fierce hug, smacking
one another heartily on the back. “Ye must forgive my tardiness, but in my defense, ye
are more than two months early. I didn’t expect ye and your retinue until the first
thaw.” Laird Sutherland glanced down a line of Mackay warriors, all huddled in furs
with
melted snow beading their beards. He made a gesture toward one of his housecarls.
Moments later, the fire burning in the hearth roared to life.
“A wee bit o’ snow cannot contain the young and impatient.” Ian’s cracked lips split
into a wide smile beneath his thick copper-colored beard.
A wee bit o’ snow? Effie contained a snort. They’d traveled four days through a
bleating
blizzard, risking their horses’ health, as well as their own, because of Vanna’s
impatience. Effie feared her toes would never thaw inside her worn leather brogues.
While the chieftains introduced their kinsmen, Effie peeked around her brother’s
shoulder to study Laird Sutherland more closely. The man was as braw as they came.
Black
stubble shadowed his jaw but didn’t hide the strong angles of his chin and cheekbones.
Silver-blue eyes the color of shallow seawater glittered beneath thick black brows.
His
nose, slender and straight, directed her gaze to sharply-defined lips.
Simply put, the man was…well, he was certainly easy to look upon.
Effie decided her sister had been blessed with good fortune, until Laird Sutherland
turned toward his seneschal. A scar trailed a sinister red line from in front of his
ear, down his thick neck and into his léine shirt.
Vanna sucked in air, her spine straightened.
Effie wanted to scold her. The girl slept peacefully night after night beneath the
blanket of protection the Mackay warriors provided. War was essential to the security
of
their borders. No one knew this better than Effie. She had her own scars, though none
marred her skin.
“Wake the servants and warm ale for our guests,” Laird Sutherland issued the order to
no
one in particular for his attention was now on Vanna. He added instructions to prepare
their accommodations, then set himself before his betrothed.
“If this is your sister, then ye did her no justice in your missives.” Laird
Sutherland
eyed Vanna from tit to toe and awaited introductions.
Ian angled himself toward Vanna. “May I present Lady Vanna Mackay.”
Vanna’s smile could weaken any man’s resolve, and she knew it. She glossed her full
lips, batted her curled black lashes and dipped low as Effie had taught her. “’Tis a
pleasure to finally meet ye, m’laird.”
His bow was deep, reverent, but his eyes darkened with lust. ’Twas how men looked at
Vanna. She possessed uncommon, exotic beauty, unlike Effie, who resembled every other
green-eyed lass in the Highlands with unruly copper-colored curls and pale skin. The
one
physical attribute Effie had to her favor was her firm round breasts. Not that anyone
ever noticed them.
Laird Sutherland noticed. His gaze flitted over Effie’s person then lingered long
seconds on her breasts.
Her heart skidded, but she quickly pulled the seams of her mantle tighter around her
bosom and tucked herself farther behind Ian.
“And who, pray tell, is this bonnie creature?”
Ian had to follow Laird Sutherland’s eyes before he replied, “This is Euphema Reay—”
“Effie, m’laird,” she corrected quickly and stepped forward beside Vanna to curtsey.
As
she stood upright, she glared at Ian. At four years her junior, Ian had the bitter
disposition of a man twice his age. “I am my brother’s other sister.”
Laird Sutherland’s brows perked up, his head tilted, then his eyes shifted back to
Ian.
“I was not aware ye had two sisters.”
Ian scratched his beard. “I saw no point in mentioning it during our negotiations.”
Laird Sutherland’s gaze swept over her like a gust of heat before he met her eyes.
“Are
ye married, lass?”
“I’m widowed, m’laird.” She hated those words. Had hated them for two years.
“And past her years.” Ian’s callousness spiked her temper.
“I just turned two and thirty. I’m hardly dead.”
“Do ye still bleed?” Silence hummed in the wake of Laird Sutherland’s inquiry. The
fire
cracked in the hearth, raising the short hairs at her nape.
She considered herself keen, but it wasn’t until he asked his blatant question that
she
fully understood the path of the conversation. She held no desire to take another
husband, much less take a husband from her sister. Staring wide-eyed at the rushes
scattered about the floor, she felt almost ashamed when she answered, “Aye.”
Effie swore she heard Vanna’s teeth grind as Ian attempted to remedy the situation.
“Forgive me, but ye agreed to marry Vanna in exchange for an alliance.”
“We’ll have our alliance.” He locked eyes with Ian. “But I’ll remind ye that I agreed
to
a union with your sister.” Laird Sutherland’s attention shifted between Vanna and
Effie.
“I’ll need a fortnight to decide which one is best suited to be my wife.”
Internationally published author, Kimberly Killion, has been hailed by Romantic
Times Magazine as an author who writes “captivating romance with excellent pacing and
characters who are honorable, intelligent and full of humanity.” Her debut book, Her
One
Desire, was nominated for the romance-publishing industry's highest award of
distinction, the RITA® Award. Her One Desire won the 2009 Booksellers Best Award for
both Long Historical and Best First Book. In addition, Kimberly’s writing received an
Award of Merit in the 2009 & 2010 HOLT Medallion. She was recognized in the National
Readers’ Choice Awards, the Golden Quill Awards, and the More Than Magic Contest.
Romantic Times Magazine awarded Kimberly’s second Scottish-set novel, Highland Dragon,
with the K.I.S.S. Award and said this is “a tale to cherish.”
Aside from writing, Kimberly is also the Owner/Creative Director of The Killion
Group/Hot Damn Designs.
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