10 Quick Reasons Why Scots are Better Lovers 

10. Once in the protective embrace of a Highlander, you’ll never want to leave. Those Scotsmen are pretty tough and tempting. 

9. They know how to start a fire in the dead of winter—slowly, igniting one ember at a time. 

8. Their words can lead to excellent foreplay. Donna ye agree? That brogue is enough to make any lass swoon. 

7. No ambience needed. You already have a steamy backdrop for a great encounter. Is there even a bad view in Scotland? 

6. Highlanders know how to wield their swords in more ways than one. 

5. The men have been known for their prowess on the battlefield as well as the bedroom. 

4. Gerard Butler and Sir Sean Connery. Seriously. Need I say more? 

3. Highlanders can be disrobed with a flick of the wrist. 

2. Their kilts serve multiple purposes—easy access and a plaid to lie upon the ground. 

1. Scotsmen are the same as their whisky. Hot, heated, and leaving you wanting more. 

Liadain wondered how she could be expected to stay here. The room even smelled of his spicy scent. She would just need to keep reminding herself that he was a rogue—a very handsome one, but a rogue nonetheless.

He dropped her sack on the bed, grabbed a blanket, and spread it on the floor. Not speaking a word, he started to remove his courtly attire.

She looked away. Perhaps it was her uneasiness, but the room was getting extremely warm.

“I hope ye donna mind, but I donna wear clothes to bed.” His voice was a soothing murmur that sent a tingling shimmer down her spine.

Not able to stand the awkwardness, she slapped her hands over her face and groaned. “MacGregor! Will ye please?”

“Pray untwist your knotted self, healer. I don my plaid.”

Hesitantly, she lowered her hands and cast him a quick look. His chest was bare and a plaid grazed his hips—very low on his hips, but he was more or less covered. 

The man was massive, filled with self-confidence, and he had a ruggedness and vital power that she couldn’t deny. She needed to keep telling herself that even though he was certainly fair of face, he was sinful enough to make any woman—well, every woman—fall under his spell.

He nodded to her sack. “Undress, healer. Surely ye willnae wear your gown to bed. I will turn. Let me know if ye need assistance,” he spoke with an obvious hidden meaning. MacGregor lowered himself to the floor and turned his back—his very broad back.

Liadain froze, staring at the delicious sight before her. If there was ever a perfect specimen for a man, it would be MacGregor.

“I donna hear ye changing your clothes. Mayhap ye do need my help, eh?” He smirked.

He was so arrogant. Looking around for the first thing she could find, she tossed her pillow at him.

He grunted. “Why is it ye keep throwing things at me?”

“If ye would cease acting as a rogue, mayhap I wouldnae need to throw things at ye.”

“I am nae acting.”





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