A Laird to Hold Angeline Fortin (most important books of all time .TXT) 📖

banished for the past hour, clouded her vision once again and Claire sniffed back a sob.

Strong arms enveloped her, pulling her close until a life-affirming heart beat close to her ear. “Och, lass. Are ye weeping again?” Hugh asked unnecessarily. “Are ye planning on blaming yer hormones?”

Claire sniffed once more and buried her face in his shirtfront. “Maybe.” The word was muffled but he heard it. His broad chest rumbled against her cheek as he tried to suppress his laughter. “It’s not funny! You could have been killed.”

“But I wisnae.” Hugh smoothed a hand over her hair and kissed the top of her head. “’Twould take more than a recalcitrant driver to take me from ye, my love.”

Pulling back to behold his handsome face, Claire hugged him tightly around the waist. “You have the worst luck with cars, you know that?”

“Has he been run over before?” Emmy queried, as she cleaned the bits of rock and asphalt out of Connor’s arm.

“Nay—” Hugh began but Claire wouldn’t let him finish.

“Not hit, but he has blown two tires and had a rock blast a hole in his windshield in just the last month,” she told them. “He just has the worst luck.”

Hugh only kissed her into silence. Her blood rushed to her head. While she was still dazed and dizzy, she heard him explain to the others, “I believe my Sorcha simply prefers being behind the wheel herself and is looking for reason to take the position from me.”

“Dinnae let her do it,” Connor warned with a chuckle. “I’d be bluidy well damned if I’d gi’ it up were we to live in this time. Much of this world I can live wi’oot, but I’d love to take the Aston Martin we drove home wi’ me.”

Recovering from her upset, Claire rolled her eyes and noticed Emmy doing the same. Hugh and Connor had spent an afternoon the previous week at a supercar driving experience outside of Edinburgh. Connor had been forced into the position of passenger as he lacked a valid license, but they’d been able to take three laps around the track in each of the four luxury cars the track provided. A Ferrari, Lamborghini, Audi, and Aston Martin.

Hugh laughed too as if a car going seventy miles per hour hadn’t scared the shit out of him just five months before. She’d have to make sure Connor knew about that, if for no other reason than to bring her husband down a peg for making fun of the emotional rollercoaster of pregnancy she was riding.

“Aye, ‘twas a rare thrill. If my book does well enough, I may just hae to purchase one.”

Over my dead body, Claire thought as she opened her laptop and scrolled through her email. She and Hugh hadn’t anticipated being away from Inverness so long. Other than a day trip home to pick up more clothes and ask a neighbor to keep an eye on their house, they’d determined to stay in Edinburgh until they knew everyone was safe. Laird and Scarlett were family now, no matter how distant the relation.

As a result of their lengthy stay, Claire had to spend a chunk of each day telecommuting so she wouldn’t lose her new job in green propulsion, which she loved. Hugh also spent an hour or two each day with his investments. While Scarlett was picking up the tab for their hotel and meals, they needed the income, too.

“Ye’d hae my eternal envy,” Connor promised solemnly.

Emmy finished bandaging his arm in gauze and was peeking in the large tear at the knee of his jeans.

“Are ye trying to get me to remove my trousers, lass?” He grinned so intimately down at his wife, Claire had to duck her head to hide the blush creeping over her cheeks. “All ye hae to do is ask.”

“Well, they’ll have to come off,” Emmy insisted, her tone more businesslike though her face was flaming as well. “But not for that. Not yet at least. Your leg is bleeding.”

With an impatient grumble, Connor tore his jeans the rest of the way down from his knee. “They were ruined in any case.”

Emmy tsked with a shake of her head. “Didn’t you notice torn jeans are all the rage?”

“Aye, but ‘tis indecent the way some people dress here,” he told her. “Such displays of flesh banish the element of the unknown for a man. Do women in this time no’ ken that imagining what lies beneath a woman’s clothing is often more tantalizing than ha’ing the mystery solved for them?”

Hugh threw back his head and laughed with Connor. His deep dimples slashed down his cheeks, disappearing into his dark beard. A little quiver tangled low in Claire’s belly that had nothing to do with queasiness, and she was reminded that it had been more than a couple of days since he’d explored what was beneath her clothes. Since she’d run her hands over the magnificent physique hidden beneath his.

Besides, after the scare today, she felt a strong need to reaffirm life in the most thorough way. Work could wait.

“I think maybe I should take a nap before dinner. Hugh, would you care to join me?”

“A nap? Why would I…?” Her husband had always been good with puzzles of any sort and caught on quickly enough. His blue eyes darkened, the corner of his lips lifting in a roguish grin. “Aye, I’m a wee bit tired myself.” He looked to Connor and Emmy. “Meet ye for dinner in an hour?” Claire cleared her throat. “Two hours?”

Connor grinned knowingly. “Are ye sure that’s enough time for a thorough nap?”

“Mayhap. I’ll be certain to let ye know if it is no’.”

Connor

When the couple disappeared into the larger of the two bedrooms in the suite and the door closed