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ABDUCTING HER HIGHLANDER
A Kidnapped Groom Book
BY PATRICIA BATES

Blurb

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ABDUCTING HER HIGHLANDER
A Kidnapped Groom Book
BY PATRICIA BATES

Excerpt

“Well, come in then.” Elayne laughed and nudged the door closed. “‘Tis not much to be had here, dog, save the warmth of the fire. I have yet to secure any food to fill our bellies. It does no harm fer ye to warm yerself though. I will have to secure twice the food if I am to feed ye and myself.” 

Behind her, the door creaked. Her heart in her throat, Elayne whipped around. The thick wooden door swung inward. A moment later, a shadow crossed it. The door crashed into the wall and a giant stepped into view. Long dark hair hung around his face, two thin braids trailing from his temple down to his shoulders. The top of his head brushed against the beam. His shoulders stretched across the opening, blocking the doorway completely. The dark brat wrapped around his shoulders only added to his impressive size. Woolen boots covered his feet up to mid-calf. From the left boot, a simple wooden handle peeked.

Narrowed grey eyes stared at her, his lips twisting into a thin line. “What in the name of heaven are ye doin’ ‘ere?” Thick, tinge with a faint accent, the male’s voice echoed in the confines of the room.

“‘Tis my cottage.” Elayne’s voice cracked and backed up a step toward the fireplace and the poker resting against the wall. Her knees shaking she inched another step back, goodness, he was a giant. His size nearly blotted out any of the late day sunlight from entering the room.

“Ye claim it, yet I have been staying within these walls for most of the summer. Ye have never darkened the door.” The man stepped inside, kicking the door closed and dropped a bag at his feet. He unwrapped his brat from around his broad shoulders and hung it by the door.

“It is a hunting cottage. One does not need to live within the walls for it not to belong to them.” Her heart pounding, Elayne shuffled another step closer to the fireplace. 

The stranger grunted in response. “If that is what ye wish to tell yerself.”

“‘Tis the truth. With all that has transpired this past year, I have’na had a chance to come–”

“And what does a young, comely woman such as yerself have need of a hunting cottage? Slipping away to meet a lover perhaps?”

Elayne straightened, a gasp escaping. How dare he. “I would never. Ye will watch yer words. Ye may be little more than a barbarian, but I am a gentle lady.”  It mattered little if she had or no’ come to the cottage. He was trespassing. Clenching her hands into fists, she raised her chin. “‘Tis on my family’s land. Ye have’na come seeking permission. So long as it is on my lands, ’tis my cottage.”

The man tilted his head and crossed his arms over his chest. Blood stained one sleeve, an evident tear revealing a nasty cut. “Ain’t seen a soul since I been coming here. Maybe it is on yer lands, but if ye ain’t been using it then ye canna claim it.”

His voice faded as she stared at the wound. Could it be? Had her search ended before it begun? If it were true. Her sister yet might be returned to her family, to her betrothed. 

“Have ye never seen a cut before?” He ground out, covering the wound with one massive hand.

Elayne nodded, absently. “Aye, aye. ‘Tis Duncan land…” She blinked. “What did ye say?”

“‘Tis not life threatening, girl, the wound will heal. Ye should find yer way home before the hour grows too late.”

“First, tell me yer name.” Her breath caught in her chest. Please, God, let him be the one she sought. Let him be willing to assist her. 

She pushed aside the faint tendrils of fear clinging to her mind and circling the table. Elayne reached out, grabbing his arm. Her palm felt on fire, sparks darting along her arm. A thousand butterflies took flight in her stomach, spreading a wave of tingle across her entire body. 

Oh God, heat crept along her neck, burning her face.

“Ye need not know my name.” Gruff and abrupt his voice pierced the strange sensation wrapped around her. 

Elayne shook her head and took a deep breath. “Aye, ‘tis most important. Please, sir, yer name.”

A dark scowl crossed his face and he grabbed her arm, his fingers wrapping around where her father had grabbed her. Elayne cried out, tears springing to her eyes and pulled at his fingers. Oh god, she had forgotten about the bruise. 

He narrowed his eyes as he released her. His gaze landed on her arm and he caught her wrist before she could back away. “Ye bear a wound.”

“Nay, nay. Yer name, please.”

Seeming to ignore her plea, he shoved the sleeve of her brat up, baring the pale skin of her arm. Just above her elbow, the dark purple finger marks encircled her arm. “How did ye come by this bruise?”

“It matters not.” Elayne pushed at his arm. “Please, yer name, that is all I require.”

He growled something under his breath and met her gaze. “Ian. Though what ye will do with my name is beyond–”

“What is yer clan name?” Elayne cut him off. Please God, give her a small favor. Give her this means to save her sister. 

“Keith. Ian Keith.”

Elayne swayed on her feet. Thank you, God. Perhaps there was hope. How she could get him to cooperate – it was enough. He would be enough. Catriona would be returned and the nightmare would end. A lone tear escaped, rolling down her face and she smothered a laugh. 

“Praise be to God,” Elayne looked at him and raised a trembling hand to rest against his chest. “He has heard my prayers.”

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Links to Patricia’s websites, blogs, books, #ad etc.:

Amazon

Website: www.patriciabates.com

https://linktr.ee/Patriciabatesauthor

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Special Giveaway: Patricia will give away a print copy of THE MISTAKEN GROOM, Book One of the series to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.

Happy Reading!

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Thanks, Patricia, for sharing your book with us!

Don’t miss the chance to read this book!