When Highland Lightning Strikes by Willa Blair Page A

the assault on her lips. Her hiss of indrawn breath made him hesitate, but then she kissed him back. So she did want him. But doubt made him deepen the kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, mimicking what he really longed to do. She permitted his invasion, so he trailed his fingers down her throat, but paused at her shoulder. Still, she made no move to stop him, so he let his hand fall to her breast and gently squeezed.
    Shona reared back and knocked his hand away. “What do ye think ye are doing?”
    “Giving ye what ye want,” he told her, his voice husky with arousal. Testing her.
    “Ye go too far. Why are ye treating me this way? First the day of the election, and now…”
    “I ken, Shona.”
    “What? Ye ken what?” A breeze tugged at her hair, whipping tendrils into her face. Impatiently, she shoved them out of her eyes, as if she needed to see Angus’s face more than to hear his words.
    “Ye are trying to avoid marriage to Colin. Do ye think to tease me into marrying ye by offering yer…admittedly delectable…body while waiting for someone else to find us? To compromise ye?”
    Shona’s outraged gasp did not sound false. She did not argue with him. She simply stood and stepped back. “I canna believe ye would think such a thing of me…think I’d be willing to…to…”
    “Give away yer favors? Are ye no’?”
    A sudden gust startled him. She kept retreating, backing away from Angus. “Nay! I thought ye cared…I thought I cared about ye…could trust ye. But I see now I made a mistake. Ye are no better than my uncle and the MacAnalen.”
    Her face blotched, and her eyes glimmering with tears, Shona turned and ran from him, leaving behind one yellow primrose, flattened into the forest loam.
    His belly suddenly hollow, Angus watched her flee, wondering if she was not the only one who’d made a terrible mistake.

Chapter Four
    Half-blinded by tears, Shona stumbled through the woods toward camp, ducking branches whipping in the wind and becoming more furious every time she had to rip her dress free from where it snagged on a branch or bramble. How could Angus accuse her of trying to trap him into marriage? To act the trollop and ruin herself? She didn’t want to marry at all! Not yet. Not ever. Not even him.
    Did she?
    With her uncle’s plan to force her into marriage, Angus had seemed the better of two unwanted alternatives. After this, she wanted nothing to do with him, either.
    And his tale of the healer? Did he suspect her own abilities? Had he been trying to draw a confession from her? If so, he’d failed, and he’d put her on her guard. That would not happen.
    While they’d…talked…the wind had kicked up and the sky had darkened again. Though it had yet to rain, another storm fit her mood perfectly. How dare he take advantage of her! She’d told him what her uncle intended, but telling him didn’t mean she participated willingly in his scheme, or the laird’s. Angus’s accusation stung, but the way he’d gone about testing her hurt. A lot. She was new to the clan. An outsider. Some level of suspicion might be natural, still Angus MacAnalen had no right to paw at her, even after his simple, romantic, gesture. She’d crushed the flower he gave her, just as he’d crushed her trust.
    She didn’t know what to do with these feelings, but after tripping more than once and nearly sprawling on the forest floor, she knew this headlong, furious rush would not achieve anything but for her to return to the village filthy and bruised. She scrubbed at the tear-tracks on her cheeks. When she reached a burn, she paused to calm her breathing, then knelt to splash icy cold water on her face. People had seen her leave with Angus. She could not be seen returning in a state she did not wish to explain.
    No one needed to know how he’d broken her heart. How much his accusations hurt. She would be no man’s whore. She’d rather wander these woods, living alone, than be reduced to that. She’d only