The Runaway Bride and the Highlander

THE RUNAWAY BRIDE AND THE HIGHLANDER He was a cold-hearted brute, yet he conquered her heart with the gentlest of caresses… FIONA FARIS CONTENTS Thank you Bound by a Highland Curse: The Morgan's Clan Stories About the book Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Epilogue Extended Epilogue Afterword Bound by a Highland Curse: The Morgan's Clan Stories Do you want more Romance? Promised to a Highland Beast Never miss a thing Thank you About the Author THANK YOU I want to personally thank you for purchasing my book. It really means a lot to me. It’s a blessing to have the opportunity to share with you my passion for writing through my stories. As a FREE GIFT, I am giving you a link to my first novel. It has more than 280 ratings, with an average rating of 4.4 out of 5 It is called “A Maid for the Grieving Highlander”, and you can get it for FREE. Please note that this story is only available for YOU as a subscriber and hasn't been published anywhere else. Please click on the cover to download the book BOUND BY A HIGHLAND CURSE: THE MORGAN'S CLAN STORIES Book#1 (this book) The Runaway Bride and the Highlander ABOUT THE BOOK She saw right through all his masks, pierced all his shields, tamed all his fears, and showed him what love was… Skylar Morgan’s gift of foreseeing one's future turns her from pawn to key player in the Jacobite rebellion, forcing her to flee to Iona's nunnery for safety. But even that isn't far enough, as she's abducted and slated to wed a powerful English ally. That is, until she's rescued by the alluring Maxwell MacLeod, a Highlander on a mission, who awakens feelings she has never felt before. Only to meet his betrothed awaiting him on his doorstep… The last thing Maxwell MacLeod expected on his mission was saving a nun from his enemy’s claws. Dying to uncover why she’s so desperately needed for the rebellion, he takes her back to his castle, only to fall under her spell while betrothed to another. And when the council decides that the only way to save Skylar is to marry her to Maxwell's brother, his world falls apart… Thus, they find themselves thrust into the fires of their ever-growing feelings, risking having their hearts burned to ashes. But trying to fight everything that stands in their way, including the rebellion, Skylar's kidnappers, and the betrothals, is not enough. For there is one enemy they haven't considered: Skylar's gift. And one glimpse into the future is enough to shatter them both... He was a cold-hearted brute, yet he conquered her heart with the gentlest of caresses… * * * PROLOGUE 1719, Isle of Skye Rowan reached for the tea leaves, knocking the jug of milk over. The milk spilled out over the surface, reaching the edge and finally dripping onto the floor where Patches, the cat, merrily licked it up. “Oh, blast,” Rowan huffed, turning to grab a cloth. Her swinging hand knocked over a china cup and it went flying off the table and smashed onto the floor, frightening the poor cat half to death. Patches squealed and ran from the room while the three other women watching the debacle fell into peals of laughter at their sister’s antics. “At this rate, I’ll nae get my tea until I’m ninety,” Skylar laughed, her eyes glistening as the tears of mirth nearly dripped from them. Of course, her right eye always glistened more than her left, for that was the sign that magic lived within her. Her youngest sister had always been too clumsy for her own good, and nothing had changed in her older age. “Ye ken the milk is meant tae go intae the cup, Rowan, nae all over the floor,” Lana giggled as Rowan made her usual mess. “Och, will ye leave me be?” Rowan called back. “I’m doing my best.” “Aye, yer best at making a mess,” Thea joined in. “Ye can make it yerselves next time then,” Rowan growled, though a sly smile danced at the corner of her mouth. Slowly carrying the tray, the crockery tinkling with her trembling hands, Rowan shuffled across the stone floor of the room and lowered it onto the table. Skylar watched her sister with interest, noticing the thin skin of her wrinkled hands. She could hardly help but look down at her own and, almost with surprise, noticed that old age had affected her the same. Softly, she ran a finger over her translucent skin, the swollen purple and blue veins prominent beneath her touch. “I cannae tell ye how glad I am that we’re all together again after all this time,” Lana sighed, looking lovingly from one sister to the other. “I ken,” Skylar smiled. All four of the Morgan sisters nodded in agreement. “Who could’ve kent,” Lana continued, “that after being separated all those years ago, we would find ourselves sitting here now, almost thirty years later?” Rowan attempted to agree while concentrating on pouring the tea into the teacups. “We can all only be grateful we survived,” she said, a tinge of sadness in her tone. “We’ve lost so much along the way—nae least o’ all, Mother and Father.” She handed out the cups to her sisters before lowering herself slowly down into her seat. For a long moment, a contemplative silence doused the room, the only sound coming from the crackling logs on the large fire before them. Their mother and father would be long dead by now, given that the sisters were well past their prime, but that is