Cherished by A Highlander (Highland Revenge Trilogy #1) Read Online Donna Fletcher

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Highland Revenge Trilogy Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 92771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
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Quint’s hand sat braced against the door, and his arm circled her waist and pulled her back against him. Then he pressed his cheek firmly against hers. “You are not going anywhere. We settle this now.”

“How is that even possible when you believe me guilty?” she argued.

“Convince me otherwise,” he ordered, hoping she could since he did not know how he could ever let her go.

“Believe otherwise,” she countered, hurt that he left it for her to prove.

He kept his cheek pressed to hers, her familiar scent stirring his passion for her that never seemed to end. Even now, uncertain of her part in it all, he still desired her. What did that tell him? That he did know her? That he did trust her? That The Monk’s hunger for revenge had blinded him to the truth.

There was strength in his voice but no harshness. “The Monk can be…”

“Maddening?” Shade suggested when he seemed at a loss to find an adequate word.

“Relentless,” he corrected.

“Which leaves one no time to think wisely,” she argued.

His arm tightened around her waist, and he spun her around to face him, catching her against him and having no intentions of doing so but unable to resist, planted his lips on hers in a hungry kiss.

Shade was able to tell the difference right away. The Monk kissed her, and it was a kiss that spoke of fiery passion, of relentless need, and a hint of forgiveness, of what she didn’t know. But that she could feel it in him was all that mattered for it was a sign of redemption.

He got her to the bed, his need so great, he didn’t bother to strip her of her garments or himself. He tossed her down and yanked her garments up and went down on top of her, pushing his plaid aside. He was hard, so damn hard that his shaft ached.

You will be sorry you did this. He loves me as much as I love him. He will hunt you down every one of you and make you suffer before he ends your worthless lives.

The Monk stopped just before his manhood was about to enter Shade and threw back his head and roared at hearing the sweet voice of Amara so clear in his head that he expected to see her standing there. He hurried off Shade and went to pace in front of the hearth, cursing himself.

Shade pushed her garments down and swung her legs off the bed to sit there watching her husband pace frantically. Amara trusted him to avenge her death and until that was settled, he wasn’t truly free to love Shade, to speak the words, to rid himself of the guilt, to love with all his heart.

She stood.

The Monk stopped abruptly, shoving his hand out in front of him. “Don’t come near me!”

Shade dropped to sit on the bed. “Tell me about Amara.”

“Why?” he snapped.

“Because perhaps I knew her by a different name, perhaps she came to me for help and in some odd way, my help or lack of it was responsible for her death.”

CHAPTER 18

Shade was headed back to the keep, an ache in her shoulders and back from a day of tending to more wounded MacLeish warriors who found their way home and continuing to tend to the wounded already home. The air was chilly and filled heavily with delicious scents from several bubbling cauldrons throughout the village, supper close to being ready. She caught sight of her husband deep in talk with Nug.

Three days had passed since he had told her about Amara and try as she might, she could not recall the woman. From Quint’s description she was not a woman who would be easily forgotten. Long dark hair. Pale, unmarred skin. Startling blue eyes and the softest voice. She would recall such a woman, but she didn’t. So how was she responsible for Amara’s death?

It was a mystery and one that kept her husband from her. He hadn’t kissed or touched her in the last three days. He did sleep beside her but if she woke snuggled against him, he was quick to leave their bed. The message from his dead wife had opened the wound of losing her and added to the guilt of having fallen in love with her before he had finished avenging Amara’s death. It made his love for Amara seem less important. So, to punish himself he avoided her. Unfortunately, he was also punishing her as well and robbing them of what she was sure Amara would want for him… happiness. How she could make Quint see that, she didn’t know.

“Move your sorry arse!”

Shade stopped and turned to see Angus being shoved through the village, his hands tied and dried blood covering one side of his face and his one eye bruised and swollen shut. Two other wounded warriors, their hands tied as well, were shoved along with him. Five men followed behind them, laughing as they taunted the wounded men.


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