A Highlander’s
Christmas Kiss
Highland Heirs, #5
Paula Quinn
September 27,
2016
Forever
A STRANGER'S SMILE
Christmas may be coming to Linavar, but Temperance Menzie is far from joyful. Grief-stricken over the death of her father at the hands of the Black Riders, she almost didn't see the wounded stranger in the woods. And now she's determined to give this braw, brooding Highlander the help she couldn't give her father. But there's a secret lurking in the depths of his blue-gray eyes. And Temperance won't rest until she uncovers it . . .
A LOVER'S KISS
A killer for hire. It's the last thing Cailean Grant ever thought he'd become, but being part of the Black Riders was his only way to survive. Now, his guilt grows day by day, along with his desire for the beautiful, brave lass nursing him back to health. As Christmas, the season of miracles, draws near and the truth of his identity threatens to come out, Cailean must risk the only thing he has left to lose – his heart.
Christmas may be coming to Linavar, but Temperance Menzie is far from joyful. Grief-stricken over the death of her father at the hands of the Black Riders, she almost didn't see the wounded stranger in the woods. And now she's determined to give this braw, brooding Highlander the help she couldn't give her father. But there's a secret lurking in the depths of his blue-gray eyes. And Temperance won't rest until she uncovers it . . .
A LOVER'S KISS
A killer for hire. It's the last thing Cailean Grant ever thought he'd become, but being part of the Black Riders was his only way to survive. Now, his guilt grows day by day, along with his desire for the beautiful, brave lass nursing him back to health. As Christmas, the season of miracles, draws near and the truth of his identity threatens to come out, Cailean must risk the only thing he has left to lose – his heart.
A Highlander’s Christmas Kiss
Excerpt
She stopped walking and pulled
on his hand to stop him as well. “Who am I to you?”
What? What had he said? He
realized quickly enough, scowled, and then smiled, giving in to what his heart
was telling him. “Ye are—” He paused, not truly sure what to say. He hadn’t
wanted to care for her, but he did. He’d let her in, but how could he have denied
her entrance? She’d been through much, thanks to him, and yet she still smiled,
she still sang, she still had compassion to help him heal.
He began again, reaching for
her. He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her plaid- encased body, shielding
her from the wind. “Ye are my candle in the dark.” He stopped again to take her
in. He smiled. “I’m better at puttin’ a quill to m’ words than I am at speakin’
them.”
Her wide, beautiful eyes
glittered like the snow dusting the braes. He wanted to lose himself there in
the expectant hope that lit her gaze.
“You’re doing just fine,” she
assured him softly. “Continue, please.”
He shoved aside everything on
his mind but her. What was left scared the hell out him. “I canna—”
She waited in silence while he
fought his demon for her. Her hope began to fade to disappointment.
It made him smile to think her
hope was to be with him and she was waiting to hear him tell her.
“I canna take my gaze from ye,
lass. No matter what I’m doin’, m’ eyes find their way back to yer rich dark
hair fallin’ over yer flawless jaw, the relaxed curl of your bottom lip that tempts
my legs to bring me to wherever ye are. I lay awake at night imaginin’ yer soft
inhalations of breath. They fill my heart with something other than mortar and
fury. I want to bring ye to me but I’m unworthy of yer dreams. Still, I want to
be in them, as ye are in mine.”
“You see?” she said
breathlessly. “Just fine.” She closed her eyes and parted her lips when he
dipped his head to hers.
He moved his mouth over hers,
basking in the intimacy of kissing her, capturing her short, eager breaths. His
senses came alive and he used each one of them to fill himself with her. She
tasted like passion and innocence. When he slipped his tongue over hers, she opened
her arms and coiled them around his neck, covering them both in his plaid. He listened
to her heart beating like ancient drums. Or was it his own heart he was
hearing? He withdrew a hairbreadth so he could look at her again. The sight of
her dreamy-eyed and wanting more nearly drove him mad. He brushed his nose across
her temple to her hair, drinking in the scent of her, like the familiar
fragrance of peat and pine. “Ye’re bringin’ me back to life, lass.”
He kissed her again, barely
holding back the passion raging inside him to be released.
ABOUT THE
AUTHOR
New
York Times
bestselling author Paula Quinn lives in New York with her three beautiful
children, three over-protective chihuahuas, and a loud umbrella cockatoo. She
loves to read romance and science fiction and has been writing since she was
eleven. She loves all things medieval, but it is her love for Scotland that
pulls at her heartstrings.
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