Lion of Caledonia: International Billionaires VII: The Scots (26 page)

T
hanks for reading
Lion of Caledonia
.
I hope you enjoyed it!

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Check out the rest of the series.
There are two other stories within the Scots trilogy of the International Billionaires series. You can check out
Lord of the Isles
and
Laird of the Highlands
when they are released in April 2016 and May 2016.

L
ord
of the Isles

A beast. A beauty. And an unexpected baby.

L
aird
of the Highlands

A virgin geek. A seductive thief. A haunted castle they both demand to own.

W
hen Lilly Graham
visits her father in Scotland, she finds the villagers are close to rebellion against the new lord. Disturbed to hear the man has locked himself in his castle with a stash of liquor and guns, she won’t let him hide. She lost a good friend to depression and can’t be party to letting another soul lose the fight and die.

Iain McPherson avoids meeting anyone or any expectations about being a hero. He shouldn’t have been a Royal Marine and he shouldn’t have been given authority to lead. Disaster happened, leaving him a broken man. All he wants is to be left to his drunken self.

But a pesky, persistent lass won’t let him off the hook and no amount of bellowing or baleful threats will drive her away from his castle. Iain can’t escape from the past and he’s no longer sure he wants to escape from the present. Or the lass.

“Friend?” He lashed the word at her like a whip of rejection. “Maybe I don’t want to be friends with ye.”

“Too bad.” She tightened her arms. “You have me.”

His gaze narrowed. “Is that so?”

Uh-oh
.

She might have phrased that a bit wrong.

Before she could move or think another thought, he prowled to the couch, every inch of his body tense with anger. Yet with something else too. She could sense the change in him by the way his eyes glittered with feral zeal, the way his body went fluid with carnal intensity, the hungry challenge in every line of his body.

“Iain…” She scuttled back on the couch.

“Iain,” he drawled out his name using her flat accent. “Iain, she says.”

“I think we should talk.”

“Do ye?” Chuckling, he leaned down and slammed his fists at the side of her hips, effectively closing her in. “But ye just said I have ye. And that has nothing to do with talking,
donas
.”

“Not like you mean.” She met his gaze with a stern stare. “You have me as a friend.”

“A friend, she says.” His voice singsonged back at her, still filled with fury. But this close, she could see the amorous look in his half-mast eyes.

He wasn’t teasing now. Not at all.

“I think I should go to bed.” As soon as the words slipped from her mouth, she realized she’d made another strategic mistake.

He smiled, showing teeth. His gaze gleamed with satisfaction like he knew she’d made a fatal error. “There’s a thought.”

“Stop it.” Sensing she had only moments to break free of the spell he was trying to cast, she braved a touch, pushing on his shoulders. His skin was silky and hot, but she forced the realization away. “Move.”

“I don’t think so,” he snarled the words, yet his wide mouth had softened into a sultry slant. “I’m thinking ye owe me something for stealing my whiskey and my guns.”

His scent enveloped her, swirling around her like an erotic cloud, the piney, clean smell now tinged with male heat and sex. She wanted to stick her nose in the crease between his neck and shoulders and breathe him in. His passion and desire and need.

Friends, Lil, friends
.

He leaned in closer, his mouth an inch from hers. “Tell me ye don’t want me, lovely Lilly, and I’ll let ye go.”

“I don’t—”

He sucked the lie out of her mouth in one swipe of his own. His lips pulled her straight out of her head and into her body where he lay waiting with his big, brawny muscles and his come-hither eyes. Where he lay waiting with his awful temptation.

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D
ouble finalist
and winner of the Golden Heart, one of Romance Writer's of America's highest awards, Caro LaFever writes timeless romantic tales as well as nonfiction advice for writers. Her book,
Heroes & Heroines: Sixteen Master Archetypes,
has been a go-to resource for writers for more than a decade. Her romantic novels have won or been a finalist in such prestigious contests as the Golden Pen, the Orange Rose, and the Emily. She lives in the Rocky Mtns.

• @caro_lafever
  
• CaroLaFever
  

I
appreciate
every bit of advice and commentary that I've received from numerous critique group buddies, workshops, classes, and beta readers. After years of honing my craft, I still find new and important nuggets of wisdom every time I put my writing out there for review.

Thanks to my developmental editor, Allie Burton, who is truly my conscience and calls me on my idiot imaginings. Thanks to Sue Viders, who always catches when a character has moved across the room, but I haven't mentioned it. And thanks to Tanya Saari, my proofreader, who diligently goes with me into the correct way to spell numerous foreign foods and phrases.

Finally, thanks to my family, who taught me to love books and appreciate a story well-told.

C
opyright
© 2016 by Caro LaFever

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Book cover: Kim Killion

Interior design: Caro LaFever