By Monica McCarty
THE LEGEND OF THE HIGHLAND protect maintains. . . .
Handpicked by way of Robert the Bruce to aid him in his quest to unfastened Scotland from English rule, the elite warriors of the Highland defend face their darkest days. whilst Bruce is pressured to escape, his bid for freedom rests at the shoulders of 1 amazing warrior.
Erik MacSorley is a superb seafarer who hasn't ever encountered a wind he couldn't harness or a lady he couldn't win—until he drags a rainy, half-naked “nursemaid” out of the waters off the Irish coast. Ellie’s traditional visual appeal belies the reality: She is in reality woman Elyne de Burgh, the lively daughter of the main robust noble in eire.
Worse, this impossible to resist lady is decided to end up herself proof against Erik’s charms—a problem he can't withstand.
Her captor may well glance each inch a rugged warrior, yet Ellie vows that it'll take greater than a wickedly suggestive caress to provoke her. but Erik will sweep away Ellie’s resistance with a hope that resonates deep inside her center. nonetheless, he's a guy pushed via loyalty, and she or he is a lady with secrets and techniques which may jeopardize Bruce’s probability to reclaim his throne. because the conflict for king and kingdom sounds around the seashores, will Ellie’s love be adequate to eventually tame the legend referred to as the Hawk?
Surrender to the excitement of this novel from the Highland shield sequence
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Additional resources for The Hawk: A Highland Guard Novel (Highland Guard Novels)
It was a magnetic combination, drawing people to him like moths to a flame. As if simply by being close to him, some of his golden glow would spill over onto those around him. What would it be like to kiss him? Sweet Mother Mary, where had that come from? It had popped out of nowhere. She couldn't recall ever contemplating such a thing. The one time Ralph had tried to kiss her, she'd almost been ill. Disconcerted by the direction of her thoughts, she switched the subject. " "Aye. " He did look marginally better, though she doubted he would admit it if he wasn't.
It wasn't often that he went to such great lengths to charm a lass, and to have it fail so miserably was vaguely unsettling. Perhaps it was some strange affliction peculiar to nursemaids. Learning her occupation didn't surprise him at all. It went with the brisk, matter-of-fact confidence he'd noticed earlier. And when she'd looked down her nose at him and given him that patronizing smile, it had conjured up distinct memories of Ada--the old battle-axe. Something about the lass set him on edge, and he'd be glad when he could be rid of her.
Was he one of her father's men? One of the castle soldiers? Surely he would help her. She was certainly more likely to find understanding from a familiar face than from a boatload of Norsemen--she shivered reflexively--wasn't she? She was about to plead her case when she glanced into the bald soldier's eyes. The words froze on her tongue. She knew without asking that he would be of no help. The man was utterly without emotion; he had the cold, flat eyes of a reptile. "How much did you hear? " he demanded sharply.