When sensible Catriona Hurst sets off in pursuit of her wild twin sister, Caitlyn – whose plan to trap the handsome laird of Clan MacLean into marriage will lead her to sure disaster – she never expects the journey to end with her own wedding. First Triona is caught in MacLean’s carriage, then she’s roundly scolded, and then – to her shocked surprise – thoroughly kissed! She is caught, body and soul, by the laird’s enigmatic younger brother, Hugh MacLean, who had set a trap for the unprincipled sister and refuses to believe that he’s caught the other. While Hugh is enchanted by Triona’s delightful response to his kiss, he soon realizes that she is not who he thought, but an innocent whom honor demands he wed immediately. And he also discovers that letting the passionate Triona into his bed is far easier than keeping her out of his many concerns – even the ones he’d planned to keep secret!
"The characters do outrageous things that all fall into place and keep this book on pace. Karen is an author who will transport you back in time."
~ A Night Owl Romance
"Karen Hawkins writes wonderful dialogue and her love scenes are exactly what a historical romance enthusiast is looking for. Hugh and Catroina have great chemistry from the moment they first meet. SLEEPLESS IN SCOTLAND is one book that is airy, sexy and just plain fun to read."
~ Fresh Fiction
"…the lead five and a strong support cast make for a wonderful time though readers will be sleepless in America due to a one sitting enjoyable time."
~ Genre Go Round
“My lord, you’ve made a mistake. I’m not—“ The coach lurched forward once again and Triona cried out, “No! Wait—“
It was too late. They were moving, returning to their dashing pace.
The carriage rocked and Triona’s banged knee ached. She grabbed the door strap once more trying to keep from twisting her already sore knee and glared at MacLean’s shadowy form. He seemed even larger inside the confines of the carriage.
Indeed, at this close distance, everything about him was more. He seemed to fill the entire space, his long legs pressed against hers. Though she couldn’t see his expressions, she could feel the seething danger that warmed the air about them. “My lord, there has been a horrible mistake.”
No answer came.
Triona took a calming breath. “My lord, I am not who you think I am.”
“What?” Amusement and disbelief colored his voice. “Then you are not Miss Hurst.”
“No. I mean, yes, but not the one—What I mean to say is that I am Miss Hurst, but not the Miss Hurst you think me.”
Even in the gloom, she could make out the flash of his teeth as he smiled. “I see,” he said politely. “You are Miss Hurst, but you are also not Miss Hurst.”
“Exactly. I am not Miss Caitlyn Hurst, but I am Miss Catriona Hurst. Caitlyn is my sister. My twin, in fact.”
“Of course she is.”
She relaxed a bit. Thank goodness he was a man of reason! “This has been a horrible mistake. You see, I thought Caitlyn would sneak into your coach and try to—“ Triona’s cheeks heated. “I cannot say, for it’s horribly indelicate, but she—“
MacLean reached across the coach, his large, warm hands closing about her waist as he lifted her and placed her in his own lap.
He stopped immediately, holding her in place. “What’s wrong?”
“My knee,” she managed through clenched teeth. “I struck it on the seat when the coach jolted to a start, and it’s swollen.”
“Can you move it?”
“Yes, but it hurts.”
He grunted and settled her more firmly in his lap, the muscles of his thighs hard beneath her skirts. “We’ll have a look at it once we stop.”
Triona’s jaw tightened. “We will not do anything. You will unhand me and you will stop this carriage as soon as possible.”
“Yes, really. If you do not, then we when we finally do stop, I will demand your arrest.”
“Arrest? Arrest for what?”
His powerful arms tightened about her, and she could feel the irritation coming from him in waves, a deep heat that replaced her shivering with another kind. “Once we stop I will look at the knee. As for the rest, you can call for whatever help you wish.”
“Oh, I shall do that very, very loudly.”
He grinned, his handsome face within inches of hers as he said in a low voice, his breath warm on her cheek, his sensual cologne tickling her nose, “Since I caught the little bird, she is mine to enjoy. But first, let us agree to dispense with story time.”
“My lord, you don’t understand! I’m not Ca—“
It was then he committed and even more unthinkable act than holding her in his large, warm lap, as scandalous as it was. In the semidarkness of a luxurious coach as it dashed madly through a snowy night, MacLean yanked her closer until her breasts were pressed firmly to his chest. Then, as if she were a mere milkmaid, he bent his head and kissed her.