Read Highlander in Her Bed for Free Online Page B

and Pen Club, she surprised herself by having to admit that there really was something almost intoxicating about inhaling so much good, clean air.
    Good, clean Highland air, the increased thumping of her heart reminded her. And with enough of a jolt to make her straighten her back and square her shoulders against the unexpected swell of emotion Hugh McDougall would insist came from setting foot on Scottish soil.
    The earth of home.
    And Mara supposed it was—for her long-dead ancestor John the Immigrant. Him, and the countless Scotophiles like her father whose throats thicken at the first skirl of pipes and flash of kilted plaid.
    She had a cooler head on her shoulders, recognized the tightness in her chest for exactly what it was: simple regret that her father's health had kept him from sharing this moment with her.
    "But you're here, aren't you, Ben?" She reached down to stroke the aged border collie's head, found comfort in his dark, heart-melting gaze.
    An accepting gaze, laced perhaps with a touch of gratitude, for Ben was Lady Warfield's living legacy, and the gentle old dog seemed to know that his new mistress's great affection for canines had spared him spending his twilight years in some loveless London dogs' home.
    Eager to see her new home, Mara scanned the crescent-shaped promenade, searched the bustling throng for Malcolm, the driver Percival Combe had assured would meet her. A young man she'd supposedly recognize not only for his great height and fiery red hair, but also for his engaging smile.
    A meaner feat than she would have believed, for Oban seemed filled with tall, reddish-haired men. And each one her gaze happened to fall upon grinned back at her! There were the two standing outside a fish-and-chip shop, happily munching their lunch, and the really cute one who'd winked at her before disappearing into a butcher's shop.
    Even Oban Bay, with its stunning views of the Inner Hebridean skyline, teemed with them, for she spied a red-haired fisherman industriously working on his boat, and others stood at the rail of the large Caledonian MacBrayne ferry just maneuvering into place at the pier.
    Her heart beginning to flutter with nerves and a mounting sense of hilarity, Mara blew her own coppery red bangs off her brow. How, in a maze of smiling, redheaded men, was she supposed to find just one?
    Half afraid they might all be Malcolms as well, she tightened her grip on Ben's leash and started down the pavement. But before she could decide where to search for her Malcolm, someone plucked her carry-on bag off her shoulder.
    "Hey!" She swung around, ready to give chase, but stopped short when she saw the culprit.
    He stood not a pace away, six foot four inches of beaming exuberance, not a day past twenty, and with a shock of the brightest red hair she'd ever seen.
    Her Malcolm.
    Mara smiled, extended her hand. "You must be—"
    "Malcolm." His smile deepened to reveal a dimple in his left cheek. "That's myself, true as I'm here."
    He reached to take her hand, but before he could, Ben shuffled forward and thrust his head between them to nose the young man's pockets.
    "Ben! Sto—"
    "Ach, never you mind, Mara McDougall." Malcolm laughed and reached down to scratch behind the collie's ears. "He'll only be a-smelling the mackerel I had in the car boot," he explained in a butter-smooth burr. "Had 'em in just this morning and brought 'em along for selling at one or two of the hotels."
    "Mackerel?" Mara blinked, not sure she'd heard him correctly.
    But apparently she had, for his dimpled smile spread into a full-fledged grin. "Fetched a fine price, they did," he told her, glowing with satisfaction. "My mum's fresh-made butter, too."
    Mara looked at him in amazement, his soft, musical voice reminding her of another deep Scottish accent she'd heard not so long ago. One that, unlike this young man's, had not flowed with friendly Highland sibilancy but thrummed with barely restrained animosity.
    But mackerel and fresh-made