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

Connor crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her with a steady gaze. Primed for her rebuttal. Ready to fight with her so he could go fight someone else.

Too bad for him she was willing to fight back. Someone had to talk sense.

“It could be a suicide mission. Jameson is dangerous.”

“Do ye no’ think I can be a dangerous mon under the proper circumstances, lass?”

Emmy shivered at the steadfast look in his dark eyes. These were such circumstances. He wanted revenge for the harm done today as much as any of the other men. As if it had been his own child threatened, his own friend killed. His own blood spilled. The threat had awakened a warrior in her husband.

Yes, she knew he had it in him. He was fairly itching to dive into the fray and exact vengeance. Perhaps that was what she was trying to prevent. Not that Jameson deserved any latitude for his crimes. It was collateral damage she feared.

“You are an incredible man, strong and brave. Good in a fight,” she told him. “But you are not bulletproof. None of you are. And Jameson has shown himself all too ready to use them.” On anyone who got in his way. “How can you think to win against him when you may not even be able to get close to him?”

“I’m no’ afraid to shed a bit of blood in exchange for triumph, lass.”

“And I’m afraid you’ll do just that.”

Another quiver ran through her when his knuckles traced the line of her cheek. He softened and offered her a smile. “’Tis nae time for yer doom and gloom, lass. Try to think positive.”

“How can I? All that blood today…” She shuddered at the memory of Tyrone Halliday’s blood gushing beneath her hands. Oozing between her fingers. There’d been nothing she could do to save him.

Connor could call it doom and gloom all he wanted. If he carried through with this insanity, it might be his blood next. His life leeching away before her eyes. She couldn’t bear the thought. Her life was nothing without him in it.

“I’m scared, Connor.” Shitless. It killed her to admit it. Emmy had spent her adult life determined to never let life intimidate her again. She’d never even let Connor, as fierce as he’d been when they’d first met, frighten her.

This struggle they faced did.

His lips brushed her forehead, warm and alive. “I told ye a long time ago, we maun hae faith that our destiny together is God’s will.”

“It’s not God’s will!” Emmy protested. “It’s Donell’s. Frankly his word on the matter isn’t good enough for me anymore.”

He smiled at her. “Maun I hae faith enough for us both once again, lass?”

There was a hint of amusement in his gruff brogue. It infuriated Emmy. Did he think this was a game? “Connor, I’m serious!”

“As am I, my love.” He flattened her hand between his, his expression once again solemn. “I ken I’ve naught seen the same battlefields and bloodshed Laird, Rhys, and Hugh hae, however defending my clansmen is in my blood. And these are my clansmen, lass. I will fight wi’ them. I will gi’ my life for them or wi’ them. I can do nae less.”

How could honor be such an attractive quality yet so infuriating at the same time? Connor’s devotion to his clan had been one of the first things to charm her. And also to confound her, but there it was. A part of him.

God help her, she loved all parts of him.

“There’s nothing I can say to stop you?”

“Nay, my love.”

Without the yes she’d hoped for, Emmy nodded in resignation. “Then I’m coming, too.”

Connor stiffened. “Nay, lass.”

“Oh aye, I am,” came her firm retort. “Someone may need medical attention before this is all done. I’m coming.”

He glared down at her, determined to cow her into submission. Emmy scowled in return. She wouldn’t back down. Her devotion to him was just as strong as his to his family. Besides, too much was at stake for her to do nothing more than sit and wait. She hadn’t been able to control much in her life of late and the incapacity vexed her.

In that, she and Laird had something in common. He wanted to steer fate. So did she. She couldn’t do it without a hand on the wheel.

“Fine,” he relented. “But swear ye’ll stay back.”

She would if only so she didn’t distract him and make him do something stupid in her defense.

“I promise.”

He opened his arms and Emmy stepped into his embrace. His strength and conviction enveloped her, soothing her…for the moment, at least. Warm fingers traced her jaw, then lifted her chin. Their lips met with promise and sweet surrender that clenched her chest with a poignant ache. His heart beat strong against her, their breath merging. Reminders of life. Of love.

His faith in their predestined years together had never wavered. Through all their travails and uncertainty, he’d never doubted they were meant for each other. For all time.

The time had come to join him in his conviction.

And hope Donell was as committed to their long lives together as they.

“I love ye, my bonny lass,” he whispered in her ear. “I promise ye, I’m no’ ready to leave ye yet.”

“I love you, too.” Her heart ached with fiery regret. The sentiment was never enough to convey all she felt. Emmy intended to show him for many years to come.

Laird stepped out into the hall, glancing in the direction of the nursery. “Hae ye seen Scarlett?”

Ten minutes later, there was no sign of her. Only the word of a security guard who said he saw her leaving.

Alone.

“That blasted woman best no’ be doing what I think she is,” Laird groused. “We’d best be after