Loving Her Highland Enemy by Samantha Holt (best thriller novels of all time .txt) 📕

And he made her heart weak. Made her long for things she never knew she wanted.

“Let me go,” she murmured.

He shook his head. “Not yet. Not until ye’ve spoken the truth.”

✽✽✽

“THE TRUTH?” HER throat bobbed.

“Aye.”

“The truth,” she repeated softly. Darting her tongue out over her bottom lip, she lifted her shoulders. “The truth is...I’ve hated yer clan since the fire. Hated them every day with every breath. But now...I’m finding it harder to hate ye all.” She pushed a strand of hair from her face with a shaky hand.

“Ye dinnae need to hate us.” He moved closer. “We didnae hurt yer clan, I swear it.”

Her gaze met his and she shifted back, until the backs of her legs connected with the table. “I believe ye believe that.”

“Believe me,” he urged. “Trust me.”

She shook her head vigorously. “The only person I can trust is my da. ‘Tis just the two of us. It has been for so long.”

Tavish didn’t comment on the fact that the clan chief wasn’t even her real father. He imagined she might even think of him as her father at this point. “Yer da is a fair and courageous man. If he thought us to be the culprits of the fire, he’d have done something by now.”

“We didnae have the numbers.” She cursed under her breath and looked to the floor. “Why do I keep speaking with ye? Ye shouldnae be hearing these things.”

He shifted closer again, putting a hand to her arm. “I know ye’ve been hurt, lass, but ye dinnae need to be hard with me. If we’re to be married, I’d rather ye be truthful.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Hurt? Aye.” She pushed away her plaid and shoved up her sleeve, revealing a network of scarred skin, covering most of her forearm. “I’ve been hurt.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Twasn’t even the worst pain. I barely noticed when the fire touched my skin. I just hoped it would take me, knowing my ma was dead and I’d lost everyone. I still dinnae know why the fire took everyone but me.”

She had all but admitted she wasn’t Leana but Tavish didn’t feel any triumph. He’d been injured in battle many a time but never as a child and he’d never suffered such devastating loss. Her pain made his heart thud agonizingly and he wished he could go back, take it all away and let her grow up as the funny, bold lass he’d known.

“Yer ma would wish ye to live as ye had always done. She wouldnae wish ye to be unhappy.”

A little sob escaped her, and she covered her face with her hands. “I know.”

He closed the gap, curled a hand around the back of her head and pressed her face to his shoulder as she crumbled. Her body moved in little jerks and her tears soaked through his shirt. He smoothed his other hand up and down her back while cursing whoever did this to her. He’d always assumed it was the Campbells who had started the fire, but they were bold and would have taken claim for it long ago. He clenched his jaw. If he got his hands on the person who had caused her so much pain, he wouldn’t hesitate to run them through with his sword.

Slowly, her breathing softened, and the sobs came to a halt. She lifted her head and looked up at him. “I wish ye were no a Maclean,” she muttered.

He swept a tear from her cheek with a thumb. “But Macleans are the brawest men of all.” He grinned.

She pressed her lips together, smothering a smile. “That’s a lie.”

“Yer saying I’m no’ braw?”

Leana cocked her head. “Ye desperate for a compliment. That means even ye dinnae believe yer braw.”

“Any man would want a kind word from a pretty lass.” He smoothed away the rest of the tear tracks with his hands. “Or better yet, a beautiful lass.”

She lifted her arm. “I’m no’ beautiful. I’m damaged.”

“Nay, yer beautiful.”

“I’m damaged here too.” She tapped her chest.

“Yer still the same lass I knew.”

“Will ye tell everyone?”

“If yer honest with me, I willnae tell anyone.”

“Honest with ye?”

“Aye. Tell me yer name.”

She drew in a long breath, her hands shaking. She could not. She should not. “I’ve no’ said it in a long time.”

“Say it.”

“Nessa,” she finally said in a rush, unable to hold it back.

Tavish smiled. “Nessa,” he repeated.

She closed her eyes, her lips curving. “‘Tis nice to hear.”

“Nessa,” he repeated, holding her face until she opened her eyes.

He kept her face tilted upward, closing the gap slowly until their lips met. A groan escaped him at the feel of soft lips, slightly salty tasting. She gasped when he pressed the kiss deeper, angling his head. Her hands wound up around his shoulders, gripping him tight, and she opened her mouth to his. He explored the warmth of her mouth, meeting her tongue with his, kissing her more furiously. With each passing moment, a great hunger opened up inside of him. He’d kissed plenty of lasses but none made them feel like this. It was as though she’d sent him adrift and he could only find his way home if he held onto her.

She pressed her body close to his, her breasts flat against his chest. A sound of appreciation rumbled up from inside him and he moved his hands down her body, bringing them to her rear and holding her so close that not even a sliver of air could fit between them.

God’s teeth, she fit so damned perfectly against him. Every inch of him ached, inside and out. She had fascinated him from the moment she’d stepped off that boat, her hair wild about her face, her eyes wide and wary, but he had little idea it would be like this with her. Each kiss was like the fire that had consumed the castle, consuming him until he couldn’t fathom what life had been like before he’d kissed her.

Gasping for air, she broke the