The Warrior Laird by Margo Maguire

she’d had the nerve to begin a flirtation with the highland laird by dropping her handkerchief. But she did not regret it, not in the least.
    â€œOnly that I leave you for half a moment and return to find you in the arms of that filthy red shanks.”
    â€œIn the arms—!” Maura closed her mouth rather than dignifying the man’s accusation with a response. Besides, it would not do to become involved in a row with the lieutenant now, not when she wanted him feeling relaxed and complacent enough for her to escape. “You misunderstood, Lieutenant. That’s all,” she managed to say. Soon she would be away from her odious escort and all his men. “What did Corporal Higgins say?”
    Baird wiped his brow, and the movement of his hand against his smooth skin grated on Maura. But she ignored it, needing to know what issue had called him away. “There is a question of space for my men here at the inn,” he explained.
    Maura frowned with feigned concern. “And . . . did the innkeeper find rooms for them?”
    â€œOnly one. For me. My men will stay at the fort tonight,” he replied, and Maura felt relieved. She did not want to trip over a member of her escort as she sneaked out of the inn after dark.
    â€œOh. That’s very good, then, is it not?”
    He gave her a sour look, which she ignored.
    â€œI believe I’ll take a walk through town after I finish here, Lieutenant Baird. Perhaps Bridget will accompany me, or would you rather assign one of your men?”
    D ugan could not believe the comely lass was in the company of English soldiers. He should have known a pampered beauty like Lady Maura would be the wife or daughter of some high and mighty lowland lord. Who else would be dressed in such fine cloth? Not that she was the least bit ostentatious. Her cloak was black and her unadorned gown was a dark green that gave her eyes the richness of deep summer.
    He’d fallen for her flirtatious ploy. What a bloody neep he was. He should have noticed her military escort, but he and the lads had been in deep discussion about their plans for the morrow. He would have to be more vigilant, especially while they remained in this garrison town. He had no interest in having any sort of confrontation with her escort.
    His eyes wandered back to Lady Maura, and even though she was a lady , and in the company of a royalist officer, Dugan could not forget her womanly scent or the dimples that creased her cheeks when she smiled.
    He would enjoy doing more than just passing the time of day with her. ’Twas far too easy to imagine the sweet bounty of feminine skin hidden beneath her traveling gown, and how soft it would feel in his hands. He grew hard thinking about grazing her full lower lip with his teeth while he brought the tips of her breasts to hardened peaks. He would—
    â€œDid she invite ye to her room then, Laird?” Archie asked in a low tone.
    â€œShut your trap, MacLean,” he snapped, far too aware of the heated flesh beneath his plaid. “We need to decide on the direction we’ll take on the morrow.”
    B aird sent Higgins with Lady Maura on her walk about town. He did not think he could abide spending any more time than was absolutely necessary with the woman, especially not after seeing her making eyes at the filthy highlander.
    Was that not just like her—to find favor with a cursed Jacobite? He spit on the ground as he walked toward the garrison to check in with the commanding officer there.
    Maura had been quite clear about her distaste for her chosen bridegroom. Not that Baird blamed her, but she’d received her father’s orders. It was not up to her to question—or defy—the earl. He most certainly was not going to take her back to Glasgow, no matter how desperately or how often she entreated him.
    Maura was the most intractable female he’d ever met. He would not bet against her refusing to wed Kildary