“YOU WILL HAVE TO WAIT.”
“I—”
She angled her chin. “In case you have overlooked the fact, I am in an indecent state of dress.” As soon as she uttered the words, she wished them back. Seathan’s hard glare of moments before darkened, a potent reminder he was not only a warrior but a man.
A very virile man.
A man assured of his abilities.
A man confident he would always leave a woman satisfied.
Sweet Mary! “I meant…you will depart so I may dress.”
He stepped toward her as if a predator stalking its prey. “I will depart?” His gaze moved over her with excruciating, seductive slowness before pausing on her face. “You are quick to command those around you, my lady.”
Shivers of awareness slid through her. “Nay twist my words. Any other man would not have dared intrude upon a woman alone in her chamber, much less barge in and issue orders.”
“On that you are correct. Any other man in my position would have secured you within the dungeon until he had gained the truth…”
Books by Diana Cosby
HIS CAPTIVE
HIS WOMAN
HIS CONQUEST
HIS DESTINY
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
His CONQUEST
DIANA COSBY
ZEBRA BOOKS
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
This book is dedicated to my parents,
Sam and Jean White,
who have always believed in me.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am truly thankful for the immense support from my family and friends. My deepest wish is that everyone is as blessed when they pursue their dreams.
My sincere thanks and humble gratitude to my editors, Kate Duffy and Megan Records; my agent, Holly Root; my critique partners, Shirley Rogerson and Michelle Hancock; and to Mary Forbes for the extra brainstorming, all of which made Seathan and Linet’s story breathe life and allowed the magic of story to infuse their journey.
Special thanks to my children, Eric, Stephanie, and Christopher, as well as the Wild Writers for their continued amazing support!
Kate Duffy was an amazing editor and friend who made such an immense difference in so many lives. God bless you, Kate. I miss you.
Contents
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 1
Scotland, 1297
Dangerous.
The cold, moor-swept air hummed with the ominous warning. Stark. Foreboding. Like the captive rebel who prowled in his cell only paces away from where Lady Linet Dancort hid. His each step predatory. His each breath cast out in a ragged hiss.
Though hidden in the shadows, with distance and iron separating them, like the storm howling outside Breac Castle this night, the threat exuded by this man was very real.
Draped within her thick wool cape, she regarded Seathan MacGruder, Earl of Grey. Only a fool would dare cross her brother’s prisoner.
And she was far from a fool.
An ache built in her chest that her life had crumbled to this moment. She wished the years back, wished her father and mother still lived and that her brother, Fulke Dancort, Viscount of Tearlach, had not betrayed her. But as the cool, storm-fed wind rattled across her skin in a macabre caress, her wishes crumbled one by one.
Linet swallowed hard. Hopes, like fairy tales, were for the innocent. For those who had something left to believe in.
How dare her brother betray his promise of allowing her to choose her husband? This night, Fulke would regret the arrangements he’d made for her to marry a neighboring earl to strengthen his ties, an earl known for his abuse, an earl whose brutality had left his last wife dead.
At the rattle of bars, she focused on the Scot who stalked his cell like an animal caged. Here was a man who represented truth, not lies wielded for a self-serving purpose.
Thunder smothered the bells of matins.
Through the carved window, she scanned the midnight sky battered by hard, spring-fed rain. She must hurry. With a steadying breath, Linet pushed back her hood and stepped into the torchlight. A slight scrape sounded as her slipper touched the stone floor.
The Scottish rebel whirled to face her.
Lightning split the sky. Thunder snarled in its wake. Through a tangle of black hair, Lord Grey’s eyes, feral like a wolf’s, locked on hers.
A tremor rocked her as potent as the next blast of thunder. Her mind commanded she retreat.
She
