By Paula Quinn
Protecting Her used to be His DutySkilled with a sword and fast along with her wit, Scottish insurgent Claire Stuart can't be tamed. And not anything can deter her from rescuing her liked sister and saving them either from prepared marriages--not even the good-looking Highlander who vows to guard Claire. His sizzling gaze and fiery kiss carry her to the threshold of hand over, yet she belongs to no man...Seducing Her will be His RewardGraham furnish has had his proportion of lasses. yet he hasn't ever met one as headstrong or as bonnie as Claire--or one with such determined, dnagerous plans. supporting her may possibly betray his honor, his state, and extra. Graham cannot declare her. but every little thing in him says: Take her, make her yours, train her excitement, and not enable her pass.
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Additional resources for A Highlander Never Surrenders
Her manly attire only accentuated the maddening sway of her hips, the feminine grace of her long legs. An elbow in his ribs snapped his attention to the man beside him. ” Robert looked up as if beseeching the heavens to anoint him with some great gift. He leaned in closer to Graham and whispered. “Nae, she’s Claire Stuart. Connor Stuart’s sister! ” He darted his glance toward her to ensure she hadn’t heard his enthusiastic discovery, he„then continued in a hushed tone. “Their parents were killed a year after Charles II was banished.
To Edinburgh,” she advised over her shoulder. Graham grinned at Robert. “We, too, are headed fer Edinburgh. ” “Hell,” Robert groaned, and shook his head at the heavens. “Nae, you shall not,” she answered back, and quickened her horse’s pace. ” Suddenly she wheeled her horse around and faced him fully. Graham let his gaze soak in every inch of her. Hell, she was bonny. Her thick plait cascaded over her shoulder and down her breast. She wasn’t as buxom as the maids he usually took to his bed, but he did not care.
He spoke Graham’s thoughts aloud. “She speaks the truth then. ” “ ’Twould seem so,” Graham agreed, then lowered his voice. ” So, the general might not know Connor Stuart was dead, Graham concluded as they came upon a fern-filled glade with a thin stream running through it, its current dappled by sunlight streaming through the sparse canopy above. At the stream’s mossy edge, Claire draped the reins over her saddle and smoothed her palm down her steed’s long neck. Graham watched the delicacy of her movements, the tenderness in her touch as she comforted the heaving beast.