To Wed A Highlander

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“Enough!” bellowed the old laird as he rose stiffly from his chair. His commanding voice belied the weakness of his slow-moving body, as did his brightly lit green eyes. His thick hair, which had once been a dark red, was now a beautiful silver gray barely reaching his shoulders.

Emerald shards of frustration and aggravation lashed out at the two seething figures in his dayroom. Both remained unaffected by his looks of fury. They were too obstinate to realize that his toleration of their mutual detestation had vanished. No longer could they avoid the inevitable.

Alexander clamped his jaws together as a shot of fire coursed through his chest. The pains were becoming more frequent—and more powerful. His time left was limited, and before he died, he vowed his clan would be in the hands of the one man who could ensure its survival.

He glared at the powerful highlander towering motionless near the hearth, and then slid his gaze toward the obstinate redhead across the room. Her jaw was clenched and her hands were clasped behind her back as she paced furiously back and forth across the planked floor. Neither of them was any closer to conceding.

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