While she cleaned the tunic, Alex scooped up some water, washing off his skin. Rivulets of water spilled over his hard muscles, and Laren found herself staring at her husband.
He stretched and shivered from the freezing water. Her eyes followed the water that pooled over his skin, trailing downwards.
He saw her staring, and met her with his own frank gaze. Dark eyes moved down her face, past her breasts to her hips. Unable to help herself, she reached out and touched his cool skin, wiping away a droplet of water with her fingertips.
Alex didn’t move, but he caught her wrist and held it to his skin. ‘After the girls are asleep, meet me here again tonight.’
He pressed her fingers over his ribs, guiding her hand around his waist. Though his skin was icy cold from the water, she leaned in to warm him. His hand cupped her face.
Though he hadn’t done anything at all, Laren’s breath was shaky, her body seeking his nearness.
His fingers stroked the side of her face, and she lifted her mouth to his, claiming the kiss that he hadn’t given.
When he pulled back, he let his hands remain around her waist. ‘Tonight,’ he repeated.
She nodded and he released her.
AUTHOR NOTE
Whenever I visit a medieval cathedral, my eyes are always drawn to the stained glass windows. The stunning details and the intricate glass make it hard to believe that I’m staring at something that’s over seven hundred years old. I’m fascinated by the artists who made the glass, and those who pieced it together to form sacred art.
I decided to create a heroine with the talent of making her own glass—a craft she learned from a mentor priest. But for Laren MacKinloch glassmaking provided the solace she needed after losing her newborn son. Grief fractured her marriage with the clan leader Alex MacKinloch, and I wanted to explore how two people could rebuild a stronger relationship after a tragedy.
One resource which I found extremely helpful was On Divers Arts by the monk Theophilis. He documented a treatise on blowing glass that explained the techniques used in the medieval era. In addition, this past autumn I was privileged to watch the glass artists at Art of Fire take me through the process of blowing glass. You can view pictures and videos of the process at my Facebook fan page: www.facebook.com/michellewillinghamfans
You’re welcome to visit my website at www.michellewillingham.com for excerpts and behind-the-scenes details about my books. I love to hear from readers, and you may e-mail me at [email protected] or write via mail at PO Box 2242, Poquoson, VA 23662, USA.
About the Author
MICHELLE WILLINGHAM grew up living in places all over the world, including Germany, England and Thailand. When her parents hauled her to antiques shows in manor houses and castles Michelle entertained herself by making up stories and pondering whether she could afford a broadsword with her allowance. She graduated summa cum laude from the University of Notre Dame, with a degree in English, and received her master’s degree in Education from George Mason University. Currently she teaches American History and English. She lives in south-eastern Virginia with her husband and children. She still doesn’t have her broadsword.
Visit her website at: www.michellewillingham.com, or e-mail her at [email protected]
Previous novels by this author:
HER IRISH WARRIOR*
THE WARRIOR’S TOUCH* HER WARRIOR KING* HER WARRIOR SLAVE† THE ACCIDENTAL COUNTESS** THE ACCIDENTAL PRINCESS** TAMING HER IRISH WARRIOR* SURRENDER TO AN IRISH WARRIOR* CLAIMED BY THE HIGHLAND WARRIOR§
Available in Mills & Boon® Historical Undone! eBooks:
THE VIKING’S FORBIDDEN LOVE-SLAVE
THE WARRIOR’S FORBIDDEN VIRGIN AN ACCIDENTAL SEDUCTION** INNOCENT IN THE HAREM PLEASURED BY THE VIKING
*The MacEgan Brothers †prequel to The MacEgan Brothers mini-series §The MacKinloch Clan **linked by character
And in Mills & Boon® Historical eBooks:
LIONHEART’S BRIDE (part of Royal Weddings Through the Ages)
Did you know that some of these novels are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
Seduced by Her
Highland Warrior
Michelle Willingham
Chapter One
Glen Arrin, Scotland—1305
Soldiers gripped spears in their palms and charged forwards, their weapons aimed at his wife and daughters.
Blood dripped from a wound on his forearm, but Alex MacKinloch wouldn’t stop running. A primal roar resounded from his mouth as he lifted his sword and hacked his way toward the women. His lungs burned as he fought, the battle haze clouding his awareness of reality. In the distance, he saw his wife Laren’s gleaming red hair as she struggled through a water-filled ditch. Her skirts weighed her down and she held their younger daughter in her arms. She didn’t see the dozens of soldiers approaching as she tried to evacuate the fortress.
I have to reach them. Or they’ll die.
It was a reality he didn’t want to face, and the thought of his Laren falling beneath a soldier’s blade was a horror he couldn’t grasp. His arm ached with a vicious pain, but he fought a path towards them. The soldiers blocked his line of vision until all he could see was a swift storm of arrows.
A pulse thundered in his ears until he realised the arrows were coming from their younger brother Callum, who was guarding the women and children. Flames erupted from the wooden keep that stood high above them, like a dying sentry.
The fortress was going to fall. He ran as hard as he could and heard his kinsman Ross breathe, ‘Mary, Mother of God.’
As Alex rushed forwards, he heard the cracking of wood.
‘Callum, dive!’ shouted a man’s voice from behind her.
Laren MacKinloch struggled through the forest, her skirts sodden with water as the keep surrendered to the flames and collapsed. She stared through the trees, in shock at the sight of her home.
Gone now.
And what of Alex, her husband? ‘Take Mairin and Adaira,’ she begged Vanora, handing over her daughters. ‘I’ll join you in a few moments.’
‘You can’t go back,’ the older matron warned. ‘This isn’t over yet.’
‘I won’t leave the trees,’ Laren promised. I just need to see him. I need to know if he’s safe.
She didn’t wait for Vanora’s reply, but moved back to the forest’s edge, holding on to a slender birch tree for balance. Her breath frosted in the evening air as the cold settled around the glen.
When English soldiers surrounded the men from both sides, she felt her heart branching into silent pieces of terror. Dear God, no.
She couldn’t hear what was happening, but the look of grim finality on Alex’s face meant that the worst was near. As she stared from her hiding place, the years seemed to fall back. No longer was he a powerful chief but instead, the man she’d