Highlander’s Captive Read Online Donna Fletcher (Highlander Trilogy #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Highlander Trilogy Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 106398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
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Love.

A reminder of why she felt as she did about Torr?

A loving man. A good man. A trustworthy man.

“You’re exhausted and hungry. You need food and sleep, and I am going to see that you get both,” Torr said and scooped her up and planted her on the horse. He mounted behind her, and she collapsed back against him, turning into the crook of his arm and laid her head upon his chest. She loved being in his arms, the only problem being that when she was those sinful tingles would attack her and sometimes viciously. Then all she could think of was the both of them naked and touching each other. She definitely was going to hell.

The campsite was a short ride away and as soon as they dismounted a young lad hurried to see to Torr’s horse. Torr in turn saw to Wintra. He took her to one of the three fires and saw that she was seated comfortably on a blanket, then wrapped another blanket around her, tucking it in a fold at her breasts.

She sighed when his fingers brushed her already hard nipples.

Torr leaned down to whisper, “Be careful, your heated passion shows clearly in your eyes and if we were alone I would be hard-pressed not to ignite it some more.” He quickly handed her a hot brew, not trusting himself not to kiss her, which was what he ached to do, regardless that Sloan and Cree’s warriors where present.

He reached around him and snatched up the bread and cheese he had brought for her and placed it in her lap. “Meat will be brought to you as soon as it is ready. I must go and speak with Sloan.”

“And you?” she asked just as concerned for him as he was for her and while she would have preferred him to stay with her, it was wiser that he left. She needed this relentless ache for him to ease, and it would not have a chance of doing that with him so close to her.

“I will join you soon as I finish with Sloan.”

“You intend to speak with him about Owen?” she asked.

He nodded.

“You will tell me if there is anything I should know?”

“I will,” he said agreeably.

Wintra watched him walk off and wondered if a time would ever come that she would not be racked with tingles when she gazed upon him or he touched her. So why not wed him and be done with it?

Why not? The question echoed in her head and it was one time she wished that she did not think so much. She wished that she would simply accept her love for Torr and accept his marriage proposal without reservation. But that small inkling of doubt continued to nag at her. What if she had misjudged Torr as badly as she had Owen?

She tried to convince herself that there was no rush in making a decision that she would be home soon and…

She sighed, cupping the tankard tighter in her hands. What if Cree did not approve of Torr? What then?

If she was not so hungry, she would have ignored the food, but her empty stomach would not allow that, and it was a good thing. It got her mind off her musings and she finally ate with more gusto than she felt. She also enjoyed the meat a young lad had brought her. Two more tankards of the warm brew and her insides had warmed considerably. Her feet however were still chilled, and she decided she would take her boots off and let the fire dry them while warming her toes. First, however, she needed to seek the privacy of the woods.

She managed to make it to her feet without a groan, though one rumbled in her chest. She did not want to show how much she ached. She was Cree’s sister and would show no weakness in front of his men. Cree never showed weakness or had she ever seen him cry, not even when their mum had died or when he had dug her grave and laid her to rest, though he had held her when she cried.

Wintra chased the sad memories away as she walked through the camp to the woods. One of the warriors, guarding the outer edges of camp, stepped in front of her, stopping her.

“I require a moment of privacy,” she said.

He nodded and signaled with his hand and in seconds two warriors flanked her.

She was about to argue, but recalling the dead man and his lifeless eyes the last time she had ventured into the woods for the same reason, she decided that she did not mind the two warriors following along. She did not have to ask them to turn away when she stopped. They did so of their own accord, of which she was grateful. Though just to make sure, she retreated a few more steps into the darkness.



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