Excerpt of When Highland Lightning Strikes by Willa Blair

“Angus,” he said. “My name is Angus.”

His voice stopped her from turning away from him. He sounded
tired, perhaps even lonely. Or was her own sense of
isolation reflecting onto him? Shona raised her gaze to his
face. His dark eyes captured her, just as she’d feared they
would.

“Angus,” she repeated softly.

His regard never left her face. Why did hearing his name
from her lips mean so much to him? The moment she uttered
it, his tension had evaporated.

She pulled away and moved around the table to take a seat on
a low stool. She ate slowly, not speaking, waiting for him
to say whatever he’d intended when he demanded she sit with
him. He settled on the ground across from her and ate
quickly, hungrily, which didn’t surprise her after the hard
physical work he’d done that morning.

When the last of his bread had soaked up the last drop of
broth, he set his bowl aside. “Tell me about yerself,” he
urged. “Tell me about yer life before ye came here.”

Shona froze with a bit of bread halfway to her mouth. “Why
do ye wish to ken?”

“Perhaps I enjoy the sound of yer voice,” he told her. “I’ve
heard it so seldom.”

She ignored his flirtation and debated what to say. No one
here knew her history, not even her uncle.