All Chapters of TO TAME A HAWK : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

SCOTLAND1 APRIL 1513SIDHEACH JAMES LYON DOUGLAS, THIRD EARL OF DALKEITH, stalked across the floor. Droplets of water trickled from his wet hair down his broad chest, and gathered into a single rivulet between the double ridges of muscle in his ab-domen. Moonlight shimmered through the open window, casting a silvery glow to his bronze skin, creating the illu-sion that he was sculpted of molten steel.The tub behind him had grown cold and been forgotten. The woman on the bed was also cold and forgotten. She knew it.And she didn't like it one bit.Too beautiful for me, Esmerelda thought. But by the saints, the man was a poison draught, another long cool swallow of his body the only cure for the toxin. She thought about the things she had done to win him, to share his bed, and-God forgive her the things she would do to stay there.She almost hated him for it. She knew she hated herself for it. He should be mine, she thought. She watched him stalk across the spacious room to the window

THE MYSTICAL ISLE OF MORAR WAS CLOAKED IN EVENTIDE, the silica sands glistening silver beneath King Finnbheara's boots as he paced, impatiently awaiting the court fool's return.The Queen and her favorite courtiers were merrily cele-brating the Beltane in a remote Highland village. Watching his elfin Aoibheal dance and flirt with the mortal High-landers had goaded his slumbering jealousy into wakeful wrath. He'd fled the Beltane fires before he could succumb to his desire to annihilate the entire village. He was too an-gry with mortals to trust himself around them at the mo-ment. The mere thought of his Queen with a mortal man filled him with fury.As the fairy Queen had her favorites among their cour-tiers, so did the fairy King; the wily court fool was his long-time companion in cups and spades. He'd dispatched the fool to study the mortal Hawk, to gather information so he might concoct a fitting revenge for the man who'd dared trespass on fairy territory."His manhood at half-mast

unpacking. Perhaps Moonie had dragged the pieces out, she mused, there were several of them scattered across the rugShe retrieved the piece she'd kicked and rolled it gin-gerly between her fingers. Waves of emotion flooded her, a sea of shame and disgrace anger and humiliation, capped with a re-lentless fear that she still wasn't safe.A draft of air kissed the back of her neck and she stiff-ened, clutching the chess piece so tightly that the crown of the black queen dug cruelly into her palm. Logic insisted that the windows behind her were shut she knew they were, still-instinct told her otherwise.The rational Adrienne knew there was no one in her li-brary but herself and a lightly snoring kitten. The irrational Adrienne teetered on the brink of terror.Laughing nervously, she berated herself for being so jumpy, then cursed Eberhard for making her this way. She would not succumb to paranoia.Dropping to her knees without sparing a backward glance, Adrienne scooped the scattered che

"Where am I?" she insisted."Janet had a difficult time remembering that, too.""So, where am I?"The Comyn studied her, then shrugged. "Scotland. Comyn keep my keep."Her heart stopped beating within her breast. It was not possible. Had she truly gone mad? Adrienne steeled her will to ask the next question-the obvious question, the terrifying question she'd been studiously avoiding since she'd first awoken. She'd learned that sometimes it was safer not to ask too many questions-the answers could be downright unnerving. Obtaining the answer to this question could tamper with her fragile grasp on reason; Adrienne had a suspicion that where she was wasn't quite the only problem she had. Drawing a deep breath, she asked care-fully, "What year is it?"The Comyn guffawed. "You really are a wee bit daft, aren't you lass?"Adrienne glared at him in silence.He shrugged again" "Tis fifteen hundred and thirteen.""Oh," Adrienne said faintly. Ohmygodohmygod, she wailed in the confines of her re

ADRIENNE HAD BEEN WANDERING THE GROUNDS OF DALKEITH for several hours when she stumbled upon the smithy. After a grueling two-day ride from Comyn Keep to her new home-Dalkeith-Upon-the-Sea-by cantankerous steed, she'd planned to collapse in the nearest soft bed, sleep for days, and then when she woke up (if she was still here) find a good bottle of Scotch and drink herself into oblivion. And then check again to see if she was still here.Not only hadn't she been able to find a soft bed in the ri-otous castle, but there had been no Scotch, no sign of a hus-band, and everyone had summarily ignored her. Made it awfully hard to feel at home. Grimm had made haste from her company the moment they'd entered the pink granite walls of the Douglas keep, although he'd seemed quite the gentleman during the journey.But she was no fool. She didn't have to be hit in the head with a stick to figure out that she was definitely not a wanted wife. Wed by proxy, no welcome, and no sign of a husband. Def