âBut you have not told me what you expect from me when you come hereâif, as you say, you will visit each night.â
âI expect nothing other than your good company,â he said. And that was true. In that moment he did want only that.
A laugh escaped from herâa wonderful sound to his earsâand she gifted him with the smile heâd wanted to see. It was the first sign of joy in her face in weeks.
âAnd you expect me to believe that? After you have all but promised to seduce me into your bed?â
She did not appear to be opposed to it, so he would bide his time. âI would not mind that either,â he admitted.
When I wrote TAMING THE HIGHLANDER in 2005 it was a stand-alone story and I never planned to write any other stories connected to the MacLerie Clan. I had no idea that I would become so wrapped up in their family that in the end I would write ten MacLerie romancesâincluding two about their descendants in Regency times! So it is bittersweet to come to the last story, and somehow fitting that it should be about the heir of Connor MacLerie.
Aidan MacLerie has lived a charmed and privileged life and now must make decisions that will shape his future and that of his clan. Falling in love with the wrong woman is not the best choice heâs made in his life, but now he faces the consequences and his fatherâs ire.
I hope you have enjoyed watching these wonderful Highlanders and the women they love as much as I have enjoyed writing their stories.
Sláinte!
DEDICATION
During my writing career Iâve discovered those times when the empty page mocks me and torments me, daring me to fill it with words worthy of being read. In those dark times (and in the good times, too) two particular groups of writers have proved indispensable to me during my writing yearsâthe Hussies and the Hermits.
To the Hussiesâthe Harlequin Historical authorsâthanks for being my safe place in the craziness of writing and publishing these last years. Whether I need answers, advice, help with titles or just camaraderie, you provide it ⦠24/7/365.
To the Hermitsâthe wonderful group of writers who gather each year in Lowcountry SC to write on the beachâthanks for being there to help me recover, recuperate, revive and refocus!
TERRI BRISBIN is wife to one, mother of three, and dental hygienist to hundreds when not living the life of a glamorous romance author. She was born, raised, and is still living in the southern New Jersey suburbs. Terriâs love of history led her to write time-travel romances and historical romances set in Scotland and England.
Readers are invited to visit her website for more information at www.terribrisbin.com, or to contact her at PO Box 41, Berlin, NJ 08009-0041, USA.
Previous novels by the same author:
THE DUMONT BRIDE
LOVE AT FIRST STEP (short story in The Christmas Visit) THE NORMANâS BRIDE THE COUNTESS BRIDE THE EARLâS SECRET TAMING THE HIGHLANDERâ SURRENDER TO THE HIGHLANDERâ POSSESSED BY THE HIGHLANDERâ BLAME IT ON THE MISTLETOE (short story in One Candlelit Christmas) THE MAID OF LORNE THE CONQUERORâS LADY* THE MERCENARYâS BRIDE* HIS ENEMYâS DAUGHTER* THE HIGHLANDERâS STOLEN TOUCHâ AT THE HIGHLANDERâS MERCYâ THE HIGHLANDERâS DANGEROUS TEMPTATIONâ
And in Mills & Boon>® HistoricalUndone!eBooks:
A NIGHT FOR HER PLEASURE* TAMING THE HIGHLAND ROGUEâ
And in M&B:
WHAT THE DUCHESS WANTS
(part of Royal Weddings Through the Ages) THE FORBIDDEN HIGHLANDER (part of Highlanders)
*The Knights of Brittanyâ The MacLerie Clan
Did you know that some of these novels are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
Chapter One
She was not the usual type of woman to catch his eye, but she had.
Aidan MacLerie decided to stop and quench his thirst at the well in the middle of the village on his way back to the keep. His men had continued on up the hill to the wives and families who awaited their return while Aidan paused. This place was one of his favourites for finding companionship of the female kind and heâd rarely been disappointed.
He dipped into the bucket and watched her approach over the rim of the cup as he drank from it. She did not walk as much as saunter, her lush hips swaying as she crossed from the path to the well. She carried a bucket in her arms, pressing against breasts he imagined were as shapely as her hips. From the kerchief she wore to cover her hair, he knew she was a married woman, or mayhap his other favouriteâa widow.
Widows were fair game for his attentions. And they were experienced in lovemaking and the way of the world around them, so they held no illusions about the place any affair held in his life. She glanced up and smiled softly at him, making his body harden and ready itself for pleasure.