When A Scot Ties the KnoteBook - 2015
Madeline Gracechurch is shocked when the suitor she invented at sixteen and wrote passionate letters to turns out to be a real person, Captain Logan MacKenzie, who comes to her Scottish castle home to insist that she marry him.
On the cusp of her first London season, Miss Madeline Gracechurch was shy, pretty, and talented with a drawing pencil, but hopelessly awkward with gentlemen. She was certain to be a dismal failure on the London marriage mart. So Maddie did what generations of shy, awkward young ladies have done: she invented a sweetheart.
A Scottish sweetheart. One who was handsome and honorable and devoted to her, but conveniently never around. Maddie poured her heart into writing the imaginary Captain MacKenzie letter after letter . . . and by pretending to be devastated when he was (not really) killed in battle, she managed to avoid the pressures of London society entirely.
Until years later, when this kilted Highland lover of her imaginings shows up in the flesh. The real Captain Logan MacKenzie arrives on her doorstep—handsome as anything, but not entirely honorable. He's wounded, jaded, in possession of her letters . . . and ready to make good on every promise Maddie never expected to keep.
To help her cousin, Miss Madeline Gracechurch arrives at Lannair Castle, the Scottish estate she inherited from her godfather, only to be met by a fierce Highland warrior and his band of brothers-in-arms who are using the building as a refuge. By a USA Today best-selling author.
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“You strip down to your skin, and then you have a dip in the loch. Wait until she comes looking for you. Because she will. They always do. But pretend not to notice when she does. And then—just when she’s close enough to see and she’s been watching for a while, you rise up out of the water. Like a dolphin. Or a mermaid. Shooting up through the mist and pushing your hair back with both hands”—Rabbie thrust both hands through his hair to demonstrate—“with all the little beads of water trickling down over the ridges of your shoulders and chest.”
“It felt as if I’d tugged on a loose thread of God’s tartan, and a world away, someone tugged back."
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