Her Highland Champion

By Alexa Bourne

Heather Winchester leads a charming life. With good friends, a beautiful flat in one of the most amazing cities in the world, and a promising future once she finishes her Ph.D, she is finally pursuing her own dreams instead of catering to everyone else’s...except she doesn’t remember any of it.

Malcolm Fraser has returned to his Highland village to forget his failings as a professional bodyguard. Believing he could just lose himself in the mundane activities of running his bed & breakfast, he finds a woman’s lifeless body by the loch instead....

Captivated by Heather as she regains her memory, Malcolm is thrown into the line of duty. As danger comes knocking on their doors, will he be strong enough to love her and keep her safe?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Decadent Publishing
• Release date: Mar 29, 2012
• ISBN: 9781613332511

Alexa Bourne

Alexa Bourne is a teacher by day and a romance writer by nights, weekends, and all school holidays. She also teaches online classes for writers throughout the year. She writes romantic suspense and contemporary romance for Decadent Publishing and is thrilled to have the chance to share her love of Great Britain with readers everywhere. When she's not concocting sinister plots and steamy love scenes or traveling and exploring new cultures, Alexa spends her time reading, watching brainless TV and thinking about exercising. She loves to interact with readers, so visit her web page, hang out at her blog, follow her on Twitter or drop her a note at : www.alexabourne.com or http://alexabourne.blogspot.com, http://www.facebook.com/AuthorAlexaBourne or follow her on Twitter @AlexaBourne.

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Her Highland Champion

An Honor Guard Book

By

Alexa Bourne

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2012 by Alexa Bourne

ISBN: 978-1-61333-251-1

Cover art by Angela Anderson

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

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~DEDICATION~

For Nancy Wales, who always believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.

Chapter One

Malcolm Fraser’s feet pounded against the hard-packed dirt footpath along Loch Finnan. He’d come home to his remote Highland village to clear his head, plan his future. So far nothing had been decided, and the demons chasing him nipped at his heels no matter how fast he moved.

Midday sunlight, a rarity these late September days, reflected off the water. The wind whipped the grass and leaves. The cool air burned inside his lungs and his muscles ached, but he welcomed the discomfort.

He knew his daily activity wouldn’t solve his problems, but he could at least push the horrid memories of his last International Protective Network assignment from his mind for a while. Indeed, running had become the only way to hold the guilt at bay. Saving the world was too much of a burden for a man who couldn’t trust his instincts. And if he couldn’t trust his instincts, he had no business trying to protect anyone.

In the distance, tourists roamed the ruins of Castle Callagham. Malcolm ducked under a wall of trees and climbed down toward the shore. The path would be more challenging down there, with rough rocks, long grass, and soft sand, but it would be worth it to avoid conversation.

A few feet away, water slurped against the shore in an uneven rhythm. A couple of meters away, he corrected himself. He’d spent too much time in America. Up near the stone bridge someone had lost a shoe and a sweater. Why couldn’t people pick up their own rubbish?

Malcolm slowed, his breaths coming hard and heavy.

The shoe was attached to a leg. He squinted into the sun and moved closer. The cuff of blue jeans swayed with the waves. He moved closer still and assessed the scene. Long curly hair, jeans, curves. Movement?

What the devil? He closed the distance between them, crouched down, and touched the woman’s neck. A faint heartbeat pulsed against his fingertips.

He dropped to his knees. Her skin was cold to the touch. How the devil had she survived this long? As gently as he could, he rolled her to her back and set her arms down by her sides. When he leaned down with his ear to her mouth, no breath stirred against his cheek. Straight away he shoved the mass of dark, wet hair away from her face, pressed his lips to hers, and pushed oxygen into her lungs.

Nothing happened.

Come on. Again he forced air into her body. You’ll not do this to me. Again he breathed into her mouth.

Her body jerked. Water gushed out of her mouth, and she began coughing. Malcolm’s shoulders relaxed, and he sighed as he helped her to sit up.

The woman blinked rapidly and struggled to focus. When the coughing subsided, her big, brown eyes settled on him and then flew wide.

You’re all right.

She shoved against his hands. No! Her heels splashed in the loch’s edge and dug into the sand.

Malcolm grabbed both her wrists in one hand. Calm yourself, lass. I’ll not hurt you.

Her lips trembled. From a chill or fear, he couldn’t be sure. Probably a bit of both.

He raised his hand toward her forehead, and she flinched. It’s all right. Can you tell me your name? He brushed mud from her brow. But some of it wasn’t mud. Bruises had formed near her temple and along one cheek.

His innards clenched. Had she gotten the bruises from falling off the bridge or had someone hurt her? Too many years with IPN made him suspicious of everything. Your name, lass?

She stared blankly at him, still shivering and clutching the sleeves of his sweatshirt.

Her clothes were soaked through, her lips a troubling shade of blue. She had to have been out here for hours.

It’s all right. We’ll get you some help in a bit. Malcolm pulled her against him, yanked his mobile phone from the pocket of his sweatpants, and dialed 999. I need an ambulance near the old bridge by Castle Callagham. There’s a woman…. In my arms. She’s been in the water, and she’s in danger of hypothermia.

She leaned back against him and closed her eyes.

With his mouth near her ear, he pleaded, Stay with me, lass. Help is on the way. Keep those beautiful eyes open. And they were beautiful, too, framed by faint bruises he couldn’t swipe away.

He should have made an anonymous call to the police and kept to his run. And yet here he was, dragged into a situation thanks to one haunted look.

No, this was only a Good Samaritan deed. Once he gave his statement to the police, he’d walk away. She deserved competent help, not him.

***

The smell of lemon-scented antiseptic was the first indication she was still alive. That, and the garbled voices rattling off orders over a loudspeaker every few minutes. Something soft but firm cushioned her body, and every inch of her skin was a lot warmer than she last remembered.

She opened her eyes and scanned her surroundings, seeing a rollaway table near her feet, darkness creeping in the lone window in the room, and two metal bars pulled into place, one on each side of her.

A small sigh escaped her lips. She shifted in an attempt to sit up. A vise-like pain sparked across her skull and forced her to lie back down. Damn, that was why she was in a hospital bed.

Wood scraped along the floor. Take it easy, a low voice called to her.

She turned to the bedside. A man stood there dressed in dark green sweats, with both hands clenched around the silver bedside bar. He was handsome, with light eyes, dark hair cropped close to his head, and a firm jaw. It was his hands, though. They drew her attention. Clean skin, defined knuckles, large fingers. Hands rough from a hard day’s physical labor, and yet, she imagined, gentle enough to caress the afternoon’s sufferings away.

It’s good to see you awake. He smiled. You gave us all quite a fright.

Okay, the Scottish accent drew her attention, too. At once, it both melted away some of