How to Handle a Highlander (Hot Highlanders)

How to Handle a Highlander (Hot Highlanders) by Mary Wine Page A

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Authors: Mary Wine
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He needed the rest because he was going to enjoy doing his best to make sure everyone believed he still had the vigor to deflower his young bride.
    For a moment, Achaius opened his eyes. His kilt lay smooth and even over his lower body. His member was still soft in spite of the juicy offering Bari Fraser had delivered to him. For a moment he was bitter, resenting what age had stolen from him. The thought of tossing Moira’s skirts should have stiffened his cock and filled him with anticipation. Instead, he was left contemplating how to make sure the sheet was stained come sunrise.
    Sutherland’s bastard son had no problem getting stiff at the sight of young Moira.
    Achaius forced his resentment aside. Gahan’s interest in Moira might have more than one purpose as well. Not only was the man provoking Bari Fraser into a rage, he would certainly take the secret of any bastard he bred with Moira to the grave. That made him perfect for the chore of ensuring his bride conceived.
    If nature wasn’t going to let him enjoy his newest bride, at least age hadn’t stolen his wits to keep him from being able to make sure he gained the most from his newest venture. Life was about profit. Everything else was drivel for women and servants of the Church.

Three
    The mews at Matheson Tower were nice. They opened up to let in the fresh morning air and looked to be swept every day. Athena had been given a perch with a water pouch hung from it. There was a long line of perches but only three other hawks. As soon as Moira removed the hood from Athena’s head, she looked at the other birds and cried out in an attempt to accrete her dominance. Moira clicked her tongue.
    “What the hell are ye doing talking to Gahan Sutherland?”
    Bari was still spoiling for a fight. Moira put Athena back on her perch and turned to face him.
    “I should give ye a beating,” he threatened.
    Unlike Gahan, Bari never curbed his impulse to strike her. Now that she had a comparison, in her mind, her sibling resembled a weak child.
    “What manner of wife do ye expect me to be?”
    Her question confused Bari.
    “According to the maids, there is no head of house. I will be expected to shoulder the duties. I can hardly do that if I am too timid to hold a conversation with my husband’s guests.”
    “Gahan Sutherland is different, and ye know it.”
    There was a rage burning in Bari’s eyes that struck her as unnatural. It was too intense and had been there for too long now.
    “Nay, I do nae understand.”
    “It is none of yer concern!” Bari seemed caught between the need to shout and crumble into despair. His nostrils actually flared with the intensity of his emotions. “Ye have been told what ye need to know. Stay away from Gahan Sutherland.”
    Moira dared to allow her amusement to show. “I can hardly control the man. He followed me, and he is the overlord’s son.”
    “Ye’ll mind me, Moira!”
    Athena didn’t care for the shouting and let out a shrill cry. Bari snapped his head around to look at the bird.
    “Or the next time ye come out here, ye’ll find yer precious bird with a broken neck.”
    Moira moved in front of Athena. Bari snickered.
    “It seems a stroke of luck that ye insisted on bringing it along. Now get back to the keep and take a bath. There’s nothing we can do for how ugly ye are with that common nose, but ye can be clean. Yer wedding is at sunset.” He paused for a long moment. “And ye had best be a virgin. Because if ye aren’t, ye are no use to me at all.”
    A feeling of helplessness was growing inside her, and she detested it. At least her temper burned it away, so she let it flare up. “I wish I weren’t one.”
    Her brother’s eyes widened with rage.
    “And I do nae care if ye do nae like hearing me say it,” she said.
    Bari suddenly grinned. His shift in mood stunned her. “Maybe ye are nae such a pitiful peasant after all. There just might be some of our father in ye.” His lips returned to a hard line.

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