Page 1 of Dark Side of the Laird
Prologue
Emma
Five months earlier…
This night would forever change me.
The storm raged. Stinging pelts of rain spiking against my cheekbones. Hair whipping into my eyes. I held my hands up, trying in vain to halt the rain as it blurred my vision from the castle rising in the dark, its tower ruins kissing the midnight sky.
Lightning flashed, startling me, jolting through my veins and then I was hurled to the ground. Somewhere in the distance I heard the cab driver tell me to come back. A voice that sounded disturbingly not like my own told him to go.
And then I woke, warmed by a different sun. A different time. No longer was I at the castle ruins of Gealach, but a place far altered. The castle stood tall, proud, and imposing. Each stone in its place, a shingled roof, and heavy wooden doors. Gone were the piles of rock and haunting ravens that pecked at what was left of any rotting wood.
Even still, the place was haunting, eerie in its quietness. And then the air started to vibrate. Literally pulsing around me. My skin tingled, hair on the back of my neck stood on end, vision blurred.
I could hear things that weren’t there. Voices. Shouts. Metal. I could smell things that were weren’t there. Animals, hay, peat fires and… fear.
And then nothing.
All at once, it caved in around me, dragging me down in an overload of senses that made me cough and choke on an empty gag.
Cries of panic. Shouts of warning.
Startling utter silence.
Then more noise… clanging, running, screaming.
I crawled up the stone stairs feeling like every inch was a feat. My fingers scraping on the stone, I dragged myself to the top, intent on getting inside and away from what was sure to be my undoing.
Fingertips on the cool iron handle, I had it. But I couldn’t make it budge. Whatever the noise and the smell, they were draining me, taking away every ounce of energy I possessed.
Was this punishment for running away from my husband? For leaving a marriage that was so very unpleasant, I might have flung myself from a window if I’d not been given the number for a cab service by the woman whose inn we stayed at for our holiday?
I don’t know… This felt…awful.
Fear rushed like a torrent of waves through my veins making me shake, sweat, and freezing me in a moment of terror.
The door wouldn’t budge and with each passing second my heart beat faster and I couldn’t quite catch my breath.
“Open,” I said, but the words didn’t come out. Either that or the noise inside my head drowned out my plea.
I closed my eyes, praying both that I’d wake up at the inn with my husband, Steven, standing over me, just as much as I swore I never wanted to see him again. Which was it? I knew with all my heart I didn’t ever want to see Steven again. But this nightmare…
Could be a new life. This is what escape was supposed to be about. Getting away from him. Leaving him for good. Starting out on my own and learning just who I had become—a shadow of my former self. A shell with its guts ripped out. I was empty. Soulless.
I tugged on the handle again, hard, knowing this could be the start of something new. I had to move forward. This time it gave way. Gave way so hard, I went tumbling backward, elbow hitting the stone hard and landing on my hip at the bottom.
“What the—” But the words stilled on my tongue, for there, standing at the top of the stone stairs, taking up the expanse of the monstrous wooden door was the devil himself.
A Scottish warrior. Broad, muscular, dark. He was dressed in a red and green kilt and billowing shirt, tall boots and weapons covered his entire being. His dark hair was pulled back but wisps of it beat against his forehead and his murderous eyes.
His features were sharp, chiseled from stone. Darkly handsome. Wickedly sensual. Currents of longing and fear clashed inside me. I opened my mouth to speak but was too afraid of what would come out.
The people addressed him as laird. He was the lord of this place. But I could have guessed that. Power oozed from his every pore. Every taut, rippling muscle screamed of strength.
He addressed me. Came down the stairs and reached out a hand. Now was the time to make a decision. Take his hand or run. On the outside, the laird was only offering to help me up, but I knew in reality… This offer was so much more than that. The promise of it was in his eyes. The way he assessed me and the way I shivered in response. Shivers I’d never felt before. A need, a craving that was so new and penetrating it nearly stopped my heart from beating.
Little did I know when I escaped Steven that I’d be hurled headlong into the arms of a dark and dangerous Highlander. A warrior who with one look could make me burn.
