Once Upon A Highland Christmas by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

again at Archie—“I would enjoy a bit of holiday cheer, sir.”
    “Aye, well…” Archie glanced from Breena to Grim, his sour expression changing into a long-suffering one. “I ken fine that no young lassie wants to spend all her time seeing to the needs of an auld done man.” He leaned heavily on his walking stick, one hand pressed to his hip. “Even if his aches and pains are like to see him dead before nightfall.”
    “You will live through this night and many more to come, my lord.” Breena slipped away from Grim and went to kiss Archie’s cheek. Then she leaned close to his ear, whispering something Grim couldn’t catch.
    To his surprise, Archie chortled and darted back inside his keep, closing the hall door behind him without a backward glance or farewell.
    “What did you say to him?” Grim took her hand, lacing their fingers when she rejoined him.
    “That, unbeknownst to you, I hid our provender and ale flasks.” She smiled, her merriment warming Grim to his soul. “And that with such a voracious appetite as you have, we’d surely turn about within the hour, as soon you discovered we’d left with nothing to eat or drink.”
    “You are a wicked lass.” Grim squeezed her gloved hand, then reached to adjust her cloak’s hood more securely about her face. “I wouldnae have believed you could craft such a tall tale so quickly.”
    “I wanted us to be away.” She looked at him with her great green eyes, so lovely beneath her thick, gold-tipped lashes.
    Her voice was soft, her tone different from just a moment ago. Something in it swept through him like molten fire, sending his thoughts away from Archie and in a direction that heated his blood so swiftly and powerfully, his reaction to her stunned him.
    No woman had ever stirred him with a mere glance, a few innocent words.
    As if she knew, her lips curved even more temptingly. She waved a hand at the whirling snow, the frost-coated gate that opened onto the cliff path. “It was time for us to go.”
    “Indeed?” Grim lifted a brow, scarce trusting himself to speak. “Were you worried Archie would change your mind about our journey?”
    “Nothing could do that.” She stepped closer, her gaze not leaving his. Something flickered in her eyes, determination, daring, and a goodly dose of provocative female heat. “This trip means a lot to me. For all the reasons I told Archie and a few more. There is much I wish to accomplish and I’ll not forgo the chance.”
    Grim swallowed, his heart thundering wildly.
    His manhood pounded in answer.
    His wits warned that she’d just challenged him.
    He hoped to the gods she had. Because if that was the way of it, he meant to take full advantage. Not just to bed her, at last having her silky-warm nakedness smooth, supple, and willing against his own bared and greedy flesh, but to finally make his bid for her hand.
    “Then let us be off, my lady.” He offered her his arm, feeling as if the summer sun had burst into view when she accepted, hooking her arm through his. “This is an opportunity I’d no’ miss either.”
    “I am glad.” She let him lead her through the gate and waited smiling as he closed it softly behind them.
    And so it came that they descended Duncreag’s steep and ice-slicked cliff path with nary a false step or mishap, despite the howling wind and near-blinding snow. Two sturdy garrons, sure-footed hill ponies, stood at the ready near a sheltering outcrop at the bottom of the cliff. They were there because Grim had trusted their secret with a stable lad he knew wouldn’t breathe a word of their plan.
    It’d only taken moments to sling his warming wolfskin cloak about Breena’s shoulders and then settle her onto her mare’s back. He swung up into his own saddle even faster, the eagerness in his heart spurring him on.
    Soon they were riding through a dark, winter-still wood, the pines’ needled boughs heavy with snow and the air frosty. On and on they traveled through the cold