Captured by the Highlander by Julianne MacLean

By Julianne MacLean

Girl Amelia Sutherland could relatively die than give up to a guy like Duncan MacLean. he's the fiercest warrior of his clan—her people’s sworn enemy—and this night he's status over her mattress. Eyes blazing, muscle groups taut, and conflict awl glowing, MacLean has come to kill Amelia’s fianc?. yet as soon as he sees the beautiful, blameless Amelia, he comes to a decision to take her instead…Stealing the younger bride-to-be is the suitable revenge opposed to the fellow who murdered Duncan’s one real love. yet girl Amelia seems to be greater than a pawn of vengeance and struggle. This courageous, attractive girl touches whatever deep in Duncan’s soul that's much more strong than a warrior’s fury. but if Amelia starts to fall in love together with her captor—and surrenders in his arms—the genuine conflict starts…

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But we don’t attack armies,” he said, correcting her. ” “No. ” They crossed a shallow burn, where the horse’s hooves splashed through the cool trickling water. Amelia hugged the tartan to her chest. ” the Butcher asked, touching his lips to the back of her ear as he spoke and sending a torrent of gooseflesh across her neck and shoulders. He had an annoying habit of doing that, and she wished he would stop. ” She turned her cheek to the side again, and her nose almost touched his. ” She’d mocked him with her last words and was surprised to hear him chuckle softly in her ear.

She cried, reaching out to block the strike, even when she knew the heavy blade would cut straight through her fingers. She squeezed her eyes shut. When the deathblow did not fall, Amelia opened her eyes. The brawny, panting savage stood squarely over her bed. His axe was poised and gleaming in the moonlight from the window. His long hair was wet with grime or sweat or river water—she knew not which. Most terrible of all , his eyes glowed with the boiling furies of hell itself. “You’re not Bennett,” he said in a deep, growling Scottish brogue.

He took hold of her arm and tossed her up onto the horse behind him, then kicked in his heels. The horse galloped forward, and Amelia had no choice but to wrap her arms around her captor’s firm, muscular torso and hang on for dear life, or go tumbling over the side into the cold, dark depths of the river. * * * As it turned out, the Butcher’s torso was very muscular indeed, solid as a rock, and Amelia was both troubled and preoccupied by his inconceivable strength. Nevertheless, she managed to stay somewhat focused and monitor their journey.

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