Highlander Unmasked by Monica Mccarty Page A

of her father’s oldest chieftain and as handsome as the summer solstice was long. So easily he’d charmed the naïve sixteen-year-old girl she’d been with passionate kisses that left her breathless and consumed by emotions that erased all thought of everything else. Even her duties had suffered as she’d devised ways to slip away and meet him. They’d talked of marriage, of a family, of a future. But she’d been a fool.
    One afternoon, rather than helping her father with the accounts, she’d pleaded a headache and then snuck from her room to find Ewen, hoping for more of his exciting kisses. Instead, she’d stumbled upon the man she’d thought to marry seducing a housemaid in the stables.
     
    The girl giggled prettily and slapped his hand away from her round bottom. “But what about Meg Mackinnon? I hear you intend to marry her.”
    “I do. And you’ll be my leman. She could never satisfy me like you do.”
    The girl seemed to ponder his offer. “Don’t you find her pretty?”
    “Meg?” He laughed cruelly, and Meg felt her heart crumble at her feet. “That little bland wren? Too bad she’s not more like her mother. But one day soon, when I get rid of that idiot brother of hers, she’ll make me chief.”
     
    The knowledge that Ewen had pursued her only for his ambition and how easily she’d succumbed to his charm was a bitter lesson. But one well learned.
    The pain of that moment came back full force as she watched Alex with his pretty maid. The girl’s cheeks were flushed as she giggled and batted her eyelashes flirtatiously. Meg felt a pang of envy, for a moment wanting to be the type of woman who inspired lust. Alex smiled, whispered something in the girl’s ear, and patted her fondly on the rump as if to shoo her away. But the pretty maid would not be dismissed so easily. When Alex ignored her subtle invitation, the girl grew bolder. She rose on her toes to drape her arms around his neck, stretching against him like a cat and squishing her plump breasts against his leather jerkin, begging not so subtly for his kiss. Meg felt as if she were watching some horrible, intimate charade. She couldn’t breathe, waiting for confirmation of what she desperately didn’t want to believe. She must have made a sound because his gaze shot around and their eyes met.
    Silent accusation fired back and forth. She felt exposed, raw. Certain that he could see right through her. See the hurt and disappointment wallowing inside. She hated that he could see her vulnerability. Meg was a rational woman; she knew she had no claim on him. Unlike Ewen, Alex had never sought her out.
    His face darkened with fury. But what did he have to be angry about? That he’d been caught? And though she’d done nothing wrong, Meg felt a trickle of alarm.
    Snapping the connection, she turned and sped down the corridor, wanting nothing more than to put distance between herself and Alex MacLeod.
    She hadn’t taken more than a few steps before a hand snaked around her waist and she found herself swept up in his arms and pulled against the granite wall of his broad chest. She’d never heard him coming.
    Meg was frightened, but not too frightened to notice how hard and warm his body felt against hers. Or how wonderful he smelled. Like soap and spice with a hint of myrtle. His arms locked around her like steel bindings. She couldn’t move, even if she’d wanted to.
    “What are you doing?” His voice shook with fury. “Spying on me?”
    She tried not to cower under the onslaught of his rage, though any fool would have been terrified. She forced her spine straight and dared to meet his gaze. Or glower, actually. “Of course not,” she said indignantly. “You were not exactly inconspicuous.”
    “Why is it that everywhere I turn you are there? What are you doing in this part of the palace?”
    Meg felt her ire rise. “What right do you have to question me?” She lifted her chin. Perhaps it was the wrong thing to do. Their faces were