Loving the Scot Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
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I caught him helping himself to a bottle of vodka from the storeroom when he thought his boss would be out.

Clearly, he intended to impress his mates when they went out that weekend.

It isn’t like there is a lot to do around here for kids. I know that. But still.

It was always enough for me without resorting to bad behavior.

The fresh air, the lands providing endless possibilities, and the home with its many halls, rooms, and nooks to get lost in was more than enough for me.

I had enough of a break when I went away to college myself. Maybe the kids these days just weren’t as mature as I was back then.

I watch the horizon, quickly scanning it. I’m always on the watch for people – trespassers, those who were not supposed to be on my land.

The estate has an ongoing problem with people sneaking in. It’s harmless most of the time – lost hikers and the like.

But then, sometimes, poachers will try to hunt on forbidden lands or, worse, the tourists. They don’t even realize how much destruction they are causing in order to get perfect Instagram posts. They just come, ruin everything, and then skip off back to whatever city they came from.

My back stiffens as I see movement up by one of the hills leading down to the loch.

Is that…?

I shade my eyes and look again, squinting.

Yes.

A person emerges from within the cover of the trees.

Someone was on the estate, I knew for a fact there were no visits planned for today.

I think about what I should do for a moment. The figure, whoever it is, was still far enough away that I couldn’t make them out properly.

I could race back to the house for a vehicle – but no, it was too far.

They would be down by the loch before I even started back.

I could run from here.

I was holding my shotgun, my constant companion on these walks, just in case I needed to face off against poachers.

It didn’t look like that was who was trespassing this time – but I wasn’t just going to throw it down on the ground and come back for it later.

I set off at a run, heading directly toward the stranger.

I don’t waste my breath shouting, not yet. I was too far for the sound to travel properly, and the wind would snatch my words away anyway.

I needed to get closer.

It was a good thing that I was in great shape because this would have left someone else worn out and panting for breath.

I knew these lands better than the back of my hand.

I knew which rocks I could spring onto and jump down from to give myself an advantage and which I had to avoid because they would tilt and threaten to tip me.

I knew the quickest routes amongst all the dips and rises of the estate which hills led down onto brooks and streams and where the best places to drop down and hide were – much to the chagrin of many a poacher who had thought they could outwit me.

I run at a pace that gets me closer to the tourist as fast as possible without leaving me winded, knowing I might have to catch up with them and explain very clearly they have made a wrong turn and why they had to leave.

Of course, people don’t always want to leave, but the shotgun does tend to help with that, too.

The closer I get, the more I begin to realize that it’s a woman who’s strayed here, dressed in white with layers of clothing to keep her warm.

As soon as I can make her out, I begin shouting, close enough for her to hear me.

“Hey!” I yell, waving the shotgun in the air to get her attention. “Hey, these are private lands! You’re trespassing! You need to leave!”

She looks up and sees me then.

Now that I’m close enough for her to get a proper look at me, she stops in her tracks, shocked.

I must be quite a sight – a mad, screaming local running full-tilt toward her with a gun in his hands.

Shock is the intended effect. It usually makes people comply a lot more easily.

But as her features became clearer to my eyes, I begin to realize something about her.

She’s blonde, with long hair tied back behind her head in a way that is both practical and attractive, with just a few loose strands framing her face.

She has a beautiful face, a kind of angelic, heart-shaped, innocent face that bores plump red lips and big eyes – blue, though I’m still far enough away that it’s only an educated guess.

Even though her body is wrapped in woolen layers against the cold wind, I can make it out enough to know that she has a wonderful figure with curves in all the right places.


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