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full force. In his heart, he knew he had to have her close; he had to watch over her at all times. The only thing that had made sense to him at the time was to install her in his room, consequences be damned.
    Watching the fire crackle he pondered over her skills as a trained warrior, were the grandiose stories really true? She had the scars of a warrior upon her ivory body, yet she was so small and womanly. It was hard for him to imagine her on the battlefield, let alone wielding a broadsword. He could easily envision her at King Richard’s court, no t in the wilds of Scotland cutting down grown men alongside her father and brother. He did however agree that t he tales of her beauty were not exaggerate d , even near death she looked like a fallen angel. He could only imagine her in her full glory; she had to be truly stunning.
    He thought back years of when he first laid eyes on the lass; she had broken up the fight between Duncan and himself. Their fight caused by a woman. Even in the midst of starting a war, he remembered her beautiful face and the way she threaten him with her broadsword as if she was a queen. He was a young and arrogant laird, he was used to young maidens blushing in his presence, he was certainly not expecting a wee thing like her to brandish her lethal weapon at him. He remembered not taking her seriously, but now, thinking about the woman she turned out to be, he wondered, how close to losing his life by her hand did he come that day?
    Fiona had played both Duncan and himself with evil precision as she promised them both her heart, pinning the men against each other. Elisabeth was the only one who had seen through it immediately. It had all been a rouse to get the Drummond and MacMillan clan s to end their peaceful existence and ignite a war, orchestrated by Kincaid. Kincaid enlis ted the help of Fiona to start the war; a war he hoped would eliminate both clans. Elisabeth had begged and pleaded with him and Duncan to listen, yet they cared nothing for what she had to say.
    It wasn’t until months later the men discovered the truth about the Scottish witch who had deceived both of them and ran off to marry Kincaid soon afterward. T hey both thought she had been forced into a marriage due to her conniving father, not because she was doing Kincaid’s bidding . Duncan and Broderick were too proud to listen to Elisabeth as she begged them to listen to her, to hear reason. Yet, Elisabeth had been accurate.
    Broderick could still remember the vicious fight he had with Duncan at the waterfall; both had their blades drawn when Duncan’s sister arrived. She had screamed at both of the men like they were wee lads.
    S he was a whirlwind of long dark red loose curls and confidence. She had no fear as she stood between him and Duncan; she tried telling them Fiona was trying to start a war for Kincaid. She had pled and begged the men to listen to reason.
    Neither of the men listened to her, lord he wish he had.
    When neither man would back down, she had enough, pulling her broadsword out she pushed Broderick away so she could speak with her brother alone. Whatever she had said to him in those few moments had made Duncan relent. Broderick remembered watching his friend stare at him one last time befo re he walked away with his angel faced sister.
    Looking down upon her face again, he saw the subtle differences in her face, and undoubtedly her lush body. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get that vision of her naked out of his head. Shaking the thought from his head he cursed at himself for coveting her body in her condition.
    Looking down at her asleep before him, h e enjoyed the look of his plaid against her skin, something about the image made something inside him shift. He owed her so much for stopping the fight between Duncan and himself all those years ago. He was still ashamed at the rift it had caused; he and Duncan never fully regained their friendship after that day. That was something that still haunted him