Page 2 of Desiring the Highland Laird (Highland Destiny #1)

T he dream came to her immediately after falling asleep.

She ran toward a castle in the dead of night.

Lightning split the blackened sky as it streaked across it.

She halted a moment, breathless, thunder rumbling in its wake.

Ahead of her, the towers soared into the night sky.

Thick, high walls encircled those towers.

Fat raindrops dotted her head. She started running again, heading for the portcullis, but the gate was closed.

Then the dream morphed into something else.

She was inside. There was a warm fire blazing in a hearth and no other light.

It illuminated the bedroom she was in. She was on the four-poster bed with thick, velvet curtains at each post. A man lounged in a chair by the fire.

He was shirtless. His chest was broad and muscular with a sprinkling of dark hair across it.

His long legs were stretched out in front of him.

There was mud on his boots. His arms rested on the chair, his hands dangling.

His head rested against the back of the chair.

His eyes were closed. His chest rose and fell with rhythmic breaths.

He was devastatingly handsome with a strong square jaw covered in stubble. Long hair plaited on either side of his head.

She climbed out of the bed and padded toward the chair.

Her bare feet were silent on the cold stone flooring.

When she reached his side, his eyes fluttered open.

He looked up at her with the bluest eyes she had ever seen.

Desire flickered through the depths. Dark brows lifted in question as he looked up at her.

She pulled off her shift and dropped it to the floor, standing naked before him.

“Och, lass…”

His voice was deep, dark, dangerous and oh, so sexy. She moved to stand in front of him. He sat up, his gaze moving over her flesh with a look of reverence and yearning. His long hair fell across his massive shoulders.

“Don’t turn me away,” she said. “I’m here for you.”

He reached for her, his warm, calloused hands landing on her hips as he pulled her to him. He shifted in the chair to be closer to her. His mouth, hot and damp, landed on the flat plane of her stomach. Her eyes fluttered closed as he placed long, slow kisses along her abdomen.

A breath shuddered out of her as he moved downward.

And then she woke up.

Evie sat straight up in the bed, sweating. Her heart beat at a rapid pace. The dream had seemed so real. So lifelike. She was certain she had felt the man’s kisses on her flesh. She glanced down to make sure she was still dressed.

Her clothes clung to her damp body. She pushed herself off the bed and stood, wobbling a bit on her feet.

The dream was more than a dream. It was as if it were a memory. She swore she still felt his roughened hands on her hips and his soft, warm lips moving along her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed as a mewl escaped her.

A rapid knock on the door made her nearly jump out of her skin. Her eyes flew open as the door pushed open and Chloe stuck in her head.

“Oh, good. You’re awake! Ready to meet Bruce?”

“Ah…”

Her brows drew together. “Are you all right? You look a bit flustered.”

“Fine. Just, um, give me a minute to change and freshen up a bit?”

“Sure.”

She closed the door with a snap. Evie sank to the bed. She pressed trembling fingers against her lips. It was hard to dismiss the dream because, for whatever reason, it felt real.

*

Evie managed to pull herself together for the dinner with the mysterious Bruce.

She changed into clean, dry clothes and combed her hair.

Then she managed to freshen her makeup with a swipe of her favorite lip gloss.

There were still bags under her eyes but there wasn’t much she could do about that.

She felt like she needed a week’s worth of sleep.

She grabbed her small handbag and headed out of her room. Her sister put on a bright smile when she entered the living room. She popped up to her feet.

“Ready?”

Evie nodded. She tried to turn her thoughts away from the erotic dream she had had of the hot guy, but it was hard for her to focus.

“Earth to Evie,” Chloe said.

She shook herself out of her thoughts. “I’m sorry. What?”

“Again, you’re not listening to me.”

She flushed, her cheeks turning warm. “Sorry.”

Chloe ushered her out of the apartment, closing and locking the door behind her. “You had a long flight. I shouldn’t be dragging you out to the pub.”

“It’s fine.” Evie put her on her best smile. She hooked her arm with her sister’s. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“I can’t wait for you to meet Bruce,” she said.

Instead of driving, they made their way out of the apartment to the pub down the street.

Even early in the evening on a weekday, the place was packed.

Every barstool and every table was filled.

There were two men on the stage under bright lights, one playing a banjo and the other a guitar.

The guitar player lifted his gaze as Chloe passed close to the stage and his face lit into a bright smile.

That must be her Bruce.

He was classically handsome with a swath of dark hair that fell over his forehead and a goatee gracing his chin.

Chloe made her way to the one empty table at the back of the pub. Her gaze was on the guitar player on the stage, a light of joy in her eyes. Evie hadn’t seen her sister that happy in ages. It made her heart swell as she took her seat.

The duo finished their song and then took a break. It wasn’t long before the guitarist made his way to their table. It was clear to Evie that this was definitely Bruce, for his steely blue-eyed gaze never left her sister’s face.

Before he made it to the table, Chloe jumped up and rounded it. She fell into his waiting arms as they embraced, then paused for a quick kiss.

“You made it,” he said, clutching her hands. His voice was deep yet soothing. Perhaps that’s what made him such a good singer.

“I told you we would.” Her gaze swept from him to Evie. “This is my sister, Evie.”

“Och, Evie. I’ve heard a lot about ye, lass.”

She rose as he extended his hand and they shook. “Have you?”

As they shook hands, though, she got a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Like something about him was off even though he seemed cordial enough. She, however, had learned over the years to trust her gut.

“Evie, this is Bruce MacDonald.” Chloe clutched his arm and gazed up at him with adoring eyes.

Evie was uncomfortable in their presence. She lowered back down to her chair and scooted closer to the table. Taking that as a cue, Bruce and Chloe did the same.

“Where did you two meet?” she asked, trying to make conversation.

“At the museum,” Chloe said. “One day he came in and, well… the rest is history.”

She sat close to him, her hand still on his arm. He brushed the back of his hand across her cheek, grinning.

“I couldna take my eyes off her,” he said.

Evie shifted in her seat, unsure what to say next. Thankfully, she didn’t have to come up with more small talk when the waitress bustled over to take their orders. He waved her off, but Chloe ordered a pint of Tennent’s.

“Beer?” Evie cut her a surprised glance.

“Bruce turned me onto it.” She grinned at him.

“And for you?”

It took a moment to realize the waitress was speaking to her.

“Oh, water for me.” She was still jet lagged and hungover from her bender on the plane.

“Break time’s over.” He kissed Chloe on the cheek. “I’ll see ye after,” he said, and then returned to the stage.

“Isn’t he dreamy?” she asked as he walked away.

“He is,” she agreed, watching as he picked up his guitar and laughed at something the banjo player said.

“I think he’s the one, Eve.” She said it on a wistful sigh.

Evie peered at the guy on the stage. While he was handsome, and he played a mean guitar, she knew nothing else about him.

“How long have you been dating?”

“A few months.”

“And you know already he’s the one ?”

Chloe gave her a thin-lipped frown. “Yes. What’s wrong with that?”

She shrugged, lifting one shoulder. “I don’t know. It seems…fast.”

“Sometimes true love is fast, Evie. You’ll get to know him and realize how perfect we are for each other in no time.”

When their drinks arrived, Evie wished she had ordered something stronger.

“I guess so,” she finally said.

“Just because you don’t believe in love at first sight, doesn’t mean I don’t,” Chloe said. She took a sip of her pint.

“It’s not that… it’s…” It was hard for her to tell her sister she thought she was rushing into things a bit.

Perhaps it was because she was in another country and the man had a terrific accent. Who wouldn’t fall for that Scottish brogue? She suspected Chloe had fallen in love with the idea of falling in love with a Scotsman, rather than the Scotsman himself.

She didn’t know and she didn’t want to seem like a doubter. She wanted to be supportive of her sister, who frowned into her beer.

“You don’t have to like him,” she muttered. “But I would like it if you got along.”

Evie reached for her hand, grasped it. “Chlo, I don’t know him.” Then she glanced over at the man on stage, singing his lungs out and playing his guitar. “But I’m sure I will like him in time.” She squeezed her hand to press her point.

That seemed to perk her up a bit and she smiled. “Good. Tomorrow, he’s taking us shopping on the Royal Mile. You’ll get to spend some time with him then and get to know him better.”

She clenched to jaw to bite off the acid retort that she came to see her sister, not her sister and her boyfriend. Instead, she gave her a bright smile.

“I can’t wait.”