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  http://www.juliaeantoine.com

  The Elusive Highlander

  Ju Ephraime

  Envision School Publishing.com

  Connecticut, 2016

  ****

  ENVISION Business & Computer School Publishing, an Imprint of ENVISION Business & Computer School, LLC

  23 Kimberly Avenue West Haven, CT 06516

  Copyright © 2016 Julia E. Antoine

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-10: 0-9911879-9-7/13-978-0-9911879-9-7

  LCCN: 2016930130

  www.juliaeantoine.com

  www.envisionschoolpublishing.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address inquiries to, ENVISION, 23 Kimberly Avenue, West Haven, CT 06516.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publishers, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book”.

  Printed in the U.S.A.

  Few writers can match the sheer eloquence and passionate heat of International and Amazon bestselling author, Ju Ephraime. Now, in this her first historical romance, she has journeyed to medieval Scotland by way of the Highlands, to bring life to a story of love so passionate it spans centuries, leaving you breathless and wanting for more…

  “Ephraime has done it again in this historical.”

  —Readers’ Review

  Ephraime writes strong characters in a fresh, engaging style that’s uniquely her own

  —Midwest Book Review

  Complex and emotionally powerful

  —High Heat Romance Review

  Powerful and engaging

  —Editorial Evaluation

  PROLOGUE

  Alasdair Campbell of Clan Campbell strode into the keep in Castle Campbell, where some of his men were gathered around the table drinking ale. Sometimes he felt so far removed from them. He was tired of the constant warfare. Alasdair couldn’t recall a time when they were not at war, whether it be feuding among the neighboring clans or fighting the many wars with England. The last war had been very bloody. No sooner had they recovered than they were back at it again.

  Bound by ancient laws, Druid customs, and mystical touch, Alasdair lived by one code—to serve the Bruce and gain Scotland’s independence. When the feuding among the clans accelerated and resulted in the brutal killing of his granddad, Colin Campbell, by Clan MacDougall, his clan came to the decision to join the two houses by way of marriage. Alasdair agreed to be hand-fasted to the only living daughter of the MacDougall, Coira.

  Alasdair and Coira used to meet secretly but were reluctant to confess their feelings for each other for fear of aggravating matters between the clans. After much negotiating and planning, the marriage was arranged. But on the eve of his wedding, Alasdair was poisoned, it was believed, by one of the MacDougalls. Not willing to accept her son’s death, his mother, a Druid priestess performed a geas to circumvent the poison and keep him alive. But something went awry because, as the last word of the geas was spoken, Alasdair’s spirit became trapped in time, neither dead nor alive.

  * * * *

  He been wandering for centuries. Yet here he stood in twenty-first century Manhattan in America, running a business. Somehow he knew things were about to take a drastic turn. He didn’t know how, but he knew something out of the ordinary was about to happen. He felt the energy rippling through the building, as if alive.

  A young woman had entered his waiting area. He couldn’t see her, but he sensed her. He left the privacy of his personal office and entered the receptionist’s waiting room. The woman was sitting on the couch, going through one of the many magazines on the table.

  He approached her, walking rapidly. She rose from the couch, her movement graceful, fluid, and easy. He couldn’t take his eyes from her. She was wearing a long winter coat and tall boots, which added extra length to her already substantial height. She was almost up to his shoulders, and he was a tall man.

  Her dark hair was very beautiful and very luxurious. It reached below her waist line. She wore it away from her face, exposing her wide forehead. Her face was oval and rather pale, but her eyes, as she looked up at him, were a striking, cool jade green. Even in the dim light of the office, her intriguing eyes, surrounded by long, dark lashes, her green eyes sparkled like diamonds. Her mouth was full and luscious, her teeth white and small. The loose fitting coat she was wearing did nothing to enhance her figure, but he could tell she had full generous breasts, and a small tucked-in waist, which were emphasized by the belt she wore around her waist. She was so sensually beautiful, it was painful to watch her.

  He knew her. The rapid beating of his heart told him he had a connection with her. He didn’t know how, but there was a connection. He didn’t react to strange young women, and his reaction to her was completely unexpected.

  “Alasdair Campbell. Are you here from the travel agency?”

  “I’m here from Elroy and Merrick, Coira Ainsley.”

  “Oh, yes, come into my office, Ms. Ainsley.”

  “Coira, please call me Coira.”

  When he learned her name, he became more convinced that he knew her. With a name like Coira, she had to be a Scot. He would let events take their course.

  * * * *

  Coira Ainsley was a happy-go-lucky young woman living in twenty-first-century Manhattan. Her job as a travel agent took her all over. She loved the work she did and was excellent at it. That was until she visited the office of Alasdair Campbell. She followed him into his office, and the next thing she knew, she found herself in the keep of a castle in the Highlands of fourteen-century Scotland. Disoriented, and not knowing where she was, Coira thought it was a prank being played on her, and then she saw the scantily clad giant, wearing nothing but a kilt, his massive chest bare, standing in front of her.

  Not one given to swooning, Coira found herself welcoming the darkness that came over her as she lost consciousness.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Manhattan, New York, 2013

  “Careful there,” Coira cried as the bike almost knocked her to the pavement.

  “Get out of the way, you fool,” the bike rider yelled as he struggled to remain on his bike. He got off the bike and stood there looking at her, which annoyed Coira even more.

  “I have as much right to the sidewalk as you,” she yelled back. “And you are the fool, trying to ride a bike among all this chaos.”

  It was cold and windy, and Coira was wrapped in many layers. She needed it for protection against the bitter cold in Manhattan. Coira loved New
York, but in the wintertime, the weather could be brutal.

  She pitied the bike riders, most of them messengers who had to earn their living negotiating the masses of people, the wind, and the cold. She understood that. That didn’t give them the right to act as if they owned the sidewalks. The taxicabs refused to share the streets with them, so they took it out on the pedestrians.

  The roads were slick from the snow, and it was seeping into her shoes. She should have gone with her first thought and worn her walking boots. They weren’t the most attractive, and she was going to meet a client. Coira wanted to make a good impression. Her well-worn boots wouldn’t cut it. So there she was struggling to remain upright in her Christian Louboutin spikes boots.

  Let’s be real. These shoes weren’t made for walking. That, and her extra-short gray wool skirt wasn’t the perfect outfit for winter in Manhattan. She knew she looked like a million dollars, a very uncomfortable million dollars.

  She couldn’t wait to get to Campbell’s and have this account in her pocket. Her boss had been trying to land this contract for two months. When everyone else failed, they called on her. She was usually able to seal the deal in an hour, hence her nickname, Half and Half… half an hour to talk him into accepting her argument and the other half to close the deal.

  The minute she arrived at the client’s, she got down to business, which always went the same way—her sweet-talking the client and then having to fight him off, sometimes literally. She would switch from helpless airhead to accomplished businesswoman in the blink of an eye.

  By the time he figured out what had happened, she was walking out with a signed contract. Her success was phenomenal with males or females; it didn’t matter. Her goal was to get the job done, and that she did with extraordinary success. She never had to sleep with anyone to close a deal, although she went prepared to succeed by any means necessary. So far, any means had not been necessary.

  The company she worked for, Elroy and Merrick, was a top-of-the-line travel agency. They worked exclusively with well-heeled clients who traveled all over the world at the drop of a hat. E&M could book a trip anywhere, in less time than it took the client to make the phone call. The cost was usually astronomical. These clients played with millions of dollars.

  Coira often wondered about these people who paid good money to do something they could've done themselves. The only difference was, when her company booked, it was always the best that money could buy. So she guessed they were paying for what they got. And she was well compensated to see that it got done.

  She was twenty-five, and if things continued as they were, she could retire in ten years if she wanted to. Coira loved her job, not the ass-kissing part, although, if she was honest, she loved the challenge of the chase. She loved closing that deal.

  Coira wondered what this client would be like. She hadn’t had much time to research him. She had been splitting her time between caring for her sick father and keeping up with her demanding job. Coira did have two twenty-four-hour nurse assistants helping with her dad’s care. Unfortunately, her dad was a very difficult patient. And sometimes she had to drive over in the middle of the night because he would not settle down until he saw her.

  It broke her heart because her father had been a very successful attorney. When he came down with early signs of Alzheimer's disease the same year her mom died in an automobile accident, she’d naively thought he would get better, but the disease progressed quickly. He went from being a strong, active man to a bed-bound invalid in two years.

  He’d forgotten how to do basic everyday things for himself. Things like feeding himself, going to the bathroom, and getting dressed became a major challenge. As an only child, she had the responsibility of caring for her dad.

  Coira, already living on her own with a roommate, was reluctant to move back home. Lately, as she’d watched her father’s deterioration, she questioned her decision. She’d never expected him to get to that stage so quickly.

  In the beginning, she tried doing it on her own, but it had soon become too much for her. It broke her heart to see her dad reduced to this. He forgot who she was and was forever calling her mother to attend him. The most difficult times were the moments of lucidity he’d have when he would refuse to wear the diapers. He hated them. He insisted on trying to go to the bathroom the way he always had.

  It became a job with the two nurses using a Hoyer lift to transfer him from the bed to the toilet. Her dad appeared to have forgotten how to do the most basic of things for himself, as if his mind had ceased to function normally.

  He was a tall man, six feet nine, which made using the Hoyer with him in it very difficult. Sometimes it took the three of them to get him off the bed. She'd recently hired a male nursing assistant. He appeared to be capable of moving her dad around, so that eased the strain on her a little. She still went to visit him every day, sometimes twice a day, although it was becoming more and more difficult to see him.

  Coira winced, recalling her father’s recent outburst when he saw the new aide. He’d been livid. He’d thrown his cup at the young man, and lucky for her, his aim was off. The effect of the sickness was disheartening.

  Enough of the sad thoughts. She had arrived at her destination. She looked up at the tall, imposing building in front of her. It was not too far from her office. On a nice day, it would be only a brisk fifteen-minute walk, but on a day like today, everything took twice as long. It had taken her thirty minutes to get there. After her encounter with the bike rider, she’d slowed her pace, and thinking of her father had slowed her pace even more. Now she had to put on her business persona.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Coira breathed deeply as she entered the building. Checking the company’s name in the directory, she realized she had to go up to the seventeenth floor. Taking a minute to compose herself, she walked up to doorman to sign the visitor log. She caught a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror. She looked like something the cat had dragged in. Coira turned to the doorman and flashed him a smile.

  “Is there a ladies room down here?” she asked.

  “Yes, two doors down.”

  Thanking him, she made her way to the restroom to freshen up. There was no way she was going to see a client looking disheveled. As expected, the bathroom was beautifully appointed. There was even a couch to relax on. Why anyone would want to relax in a bathroom escaped her. She spent a good fifteen minutes getting herself in order. When Coira walked out, she looked like a completely different woman from the one who’d walked in. She saw the doorman do a double take when she walked past him on her way to the elevator. She was accustomed to that reaction. It told her she'd not lost her touch.

  She took the elevator up to the seventeenth floor. She was surprised to see the elevator opened directly into the reception area. The place was like a showroom though nothing was over the top. She was experienced enough to recognize expensive furniture when she saw it, and these were expensive.

  Everything gleamed. She took another deep breath and prepared herself for the task ahead. The receptionist was busy typing away on her computer.

  “Hello, I’m here to see Mr. Campbell. Is he available?”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “And you are?”

  “Coira, Coira Ainsley, with Elroy and Merrick. I have a ten A.M appointment.”

  The woman took her time going down the list before exclaiming, “Ah, here it is. Can you please have a seat while I tell Mr. Campbell you are here?”

  Coira masked her face to hide her displeasure. Thanking her, she sat on the buttery-soft leather couch.

  It was so quiet in the office she could hear the clock ticking on the wall. She took the time to take in her surroundings. Glass exhibit cases graced floors polished to a high sheen, which reflected the light from the massive chandelier overhead.

  There was an expensive-looking brass end table that held a couple of magazines next to the couch. She was reaching for a magazine from th
e table when a man walked in from another room and went to the receptionist.

  After giving the receptionist instructions to cancel his afternoon appointments, he turned to Coira.

  Coira silently observed him from the moment he entered the reception area. He was a handsome man. Tall, with the look of a warrior, there was no GQ magazine look to this man. His mouth was full and generous, with the bottom lip slightly pink from the way he constantly chewed on it. Other than the pink bottom lip, this man was tough looking. She got the impression he was more comfortable naked than he was wearing the gorgeous suit he had on.

  He turned to her, his hand outstretched. He exuded the air of a man born to conquer and rule.

  “Alasdair Campbell. Are ye here from the travel agency?”

  Coira had no idea whether Alasdair was a Scot, but if his thick brogue was any indication, her money was on Scottish. The sensual majesty of the man seemed out of place in this well-appointed office. Silky red hair, tied with a leather thong, framed a face composed of strong planes. He had the toned skin and intense blue eyes of the Scots. His chiseled jaw and sensuous lips completed the picture.

  Accepting the offered hand, she got up from the couch and was pleased to see he was a tall man. She was six feet in her stocking feet, and with the addition of the five inches of her Christian Louboutin spikes added, he was still a good few inches taller than her.

  “I’m here from Elroy and Merrick.”

  “Oh, yes, come into my office, Ms. Ainsley.”

  “Coira, please call me Coira.”