Celeste Barclay's His Highland Dream (The Clan Sinclair Exclusive Bonus Novella)

Fìonan Mackay watched the ship bob high in the tide as his own slipped into the harbor on South Ronaldsay, an island in the Orkney archipelago. He hadn’t planned to come to Orkney. He didn’t want to come to Orkney. It was bluidy cold. But his best friend and laird, Angus Mackay, sent him in his stead. As Angus’s second-in-command, Fìonan believed he was better suited to remain at Castle Varrich, training his fellow warriors. However, he knew Angus needed his help.

Angus’s stepbrother nearly caused a bloodbath just before Fìonan left his home on the Tongue of Kyle. The Mackays were locked in a feud with the Donalds, and Conall’s marriage to Lady Maeve Donald was supposed to bring peace. Except, on the day Laird Donald, Lady Maeve, and her six mountainous uncles from both sides of her family arrived, the oaf led a group of warriors to chase the Donald party, claiming he hadn’t known who trespassed until he got close enough. Fìonan feared he’d lose his bollocks then his head when the Donalds looked ready to run every Mackay through as they rode into the bailey. Laird Donald hadn’t dismounted before he demanded Angus keep Conall from his sight. He called off the betrothal as a lad led his horse to the stable, citing the danger he caused Maeve. Conall had also been the one to lead an unsanctioned raid on the Donalds that prompted the lairds to negotiate a truce. Somehow, Angus convinced Maeve to remain at the keep and allow him to court her, and now Fìonan was in Orkney.

A head of the whitest blonde hair he’d ever seen caught his attention and pulled him back to the present as his ship docked alongside the one he watched. The young woman veritably stomped down the deck. He watched her spot him, narrow her eyes since he stared, then call over her should, “I’d rather drown than remain among these people.”

His brow furrowed because he didn’t expect her Norse despite her blonde hair and tall, willowy elegance and her position aboard the Norse ship. He assumed she’d speak Norn, the Orcadian language. He didn’t expect such disgusted vehemence to fill her tone when she spoke. And he didn’t expect her to point in his directions as she spoke. He wondered what he’d done to offend her when he hadn’t even stepped foot on dry land.