Page 1 of Highland Hero
Prologue
Strae Castle, Scottish Highlands, December 1774
Juliana Caldwell wandered down the path to the burn behind Strae Castle. In just a few hours, her sister Emily—an English countess and clearly an outlander—was going to marry the laird of Clan MacGregor. Who would have thought, just months ago, when they’d come up from London to claim the title to these lands, that it would have inspired a marriage? While she was happy for her sister, it meant her own life would be changed monumentally.
So, before the event took place and the raucous festivities of a Scottishceilidhbegan, she needed some solitude.
She walked along the grassy bank of the burn, rounded a set of boulders, and stopped so abruptly she nearly fell over her toes. There was a man standing knee-deep in the water, half turned toward her.
He was naked.
She shut her eyes quickly, but not before the image of Rory MacGregor, the laird’s brother, had planted itself in her mind. Long black hair, slicked back and wet, gave him the look of the devil himself, which was a pretty accurate description since he seemed to delight in tormenting her for being a Sassenach. Still…it was hard not to look at his broad shoulders and sinewy ridges of muscles everywhere… At least she’d only seen his posterior.
“Ye can open your eyes, lass.”
Slowly, she pried one eye open, then closed it quickly. “You are not dressed.”
“Nae yet.”
He didn’t sound at all perturbed, which he probably wasn’t, drat him. From the first day she and her sisters had arrived, he’d enjoyed vexing her. If she said the sky was blue, he’d insist it was grey. If she offered her opinion, he always managed to argue the point. Plus, he was arrogant and obviously used to having women flatter him—which, of course, she would never do.
“I am clothed now.”
Carefully, she opened both eyes, then widened them. He’d stepped onto the bank but only wrapped a plaid around his waist. “Your chest is bare.”
He grinned. “Ye noticed?”
She frowned. “How could I not? You are still practically naked.”
The grin widened. “Ye want me to remove the plaid?”
“No!I didnotsay that.” She crossed her arms. “It is most improper of you to engage in conversation half-dressed.” Muscles flexed in his chest, although she could have sworn he hadn’t moved his arms at all.
“I doona want to get my shirt wet. I havena finished my bath.” He placed a hand on the plaid and started to loosen it. “Will ye be joining me?”
“I certainly will not!” Her face grew hot. “I only came here for some peace and quiet before the wedding.”
He quirked a brow. “Ye’ve heard of our Scottish weddings then?”
She frowned. “What about them?”
“’Tis nae anything like a staid, proper English one, I would wager. When there’s a gathering of clans, ye never ken what might come of it.” He grinned. “Some man who doesna ken your temper might be wont to make off with ye.”
She glared at him. “I can take care of myself.”
His grin widened. “I doona doubt it. Mayhap I should issue a warning to our guests—”
“Do not be daft. I promised Emily I would mind my manners.” She sighed. “All I wanted was some peace and quiet before the crowds arrive.”
He reached for his plaid. “Well, then, I will leave ye to it while I finish—”
“You are not going to take that off, are you?”
An eyebrow rose. “’Tis nae practical to keep it on.”
“In front of me? You should apologize!”
His brow went slightly higher. “For what? Ye are the one who invaded my space.”
