Synopsis ~ A Devil in Scotland
1806, Scotland: Wild, reckless Callum MacCreath is in no hurry to become someone’s husband. But when his responsible, steady older brother Ian announces his engagement to their childhood friend Rebecca, Callum makes a startling discovery: he wants the lovely young lass for himself. But it’s too late, and when Ian banishes him for his duplicity, he’s only too happy to leave Scotland forever.
1816: Marrying Ian was the practical, logical thing for Becca to do. But once Callum sailed away to America, she missed his rakish charm and lust for life. Now, ten years later, Becca is a widow when a much-changed Callum returns to his Scottish homeland. Will he remember their spirited, fiery connection, or does he blame her for his brother’s unexpected death? This time neither of them can deny their scorching attraction, but will their hearts be burned in the blazing heat of scandal?
1806, Inverness, Scotland
Becca would me in the morning room, most likely, because she didn’t like fights. Callum MacCreath slammed the drawing room door in his brother’s face and stomped down the straight-angled stairs to go find the one sane guest – and the one female – in MacCreath House tonight. Let the quartet of devils upstairs make their bargains and plan how to spend their riches. He wanted no part of it. None. Not when it involved choosing blunt over damned common sense.
The bushes on the far side of the ravine rustled again. Sinking lower into his crouch, Callum MacCreath slowly unslung the rifle from his shoulder. A light breeze touched his ace, moving his scent behind him, away from the steep, crumbling bank. Readying the rifle, he put his fingers to his mouth and gave a low, two-toned whistle.
That was nothing new. Aside from his heard-earned reputation for directness, he supposed it was, like most male MacCreaths he boasted a green left eye and a blue right eye. Ian had the same oddity, as had their father. Not so long ago several of his ancestors had been burned as both witches and demons because of precisely that peculiarity. These days, though, lasses seemed to find his two-colored eyes attractive, thank Lucifer. [Loc 247]
“May I wear a kilt?”
On his other side Rebecca burst out laughing. “No, you may not wear a kilt, Lady Mags. Kilts are for Highlands men. And ladies do not show their knees or their ankles.”
The six-year-old sighed. “Is Grandmama spinning in her grave again?”
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