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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Almost immediately, my decision is rewarded.

It’s beautiful out here, with a view that stretches for miles. I’m at a good height here, and I can see across to the next range of hills. They block the rest of my sightline toward the loch, with bristling trees dotting the hillside, but it doesn’t matter. I know it’s out there.

It’s a pleasant day, and it feels so good to walk around and stretch my legs after such a long plane flight.

I’m not one to hit the gym or obsess over my weight, even if I am on the curvy side, so this kind of gentle exercise is perfect for me.

Walking in nature and breathing in the fresh air makes me feel like I’m at one with the universe.

A wild rabbit nearby scampers away when it sees me coming, ears shaking as it stands to watch me again from a distance away and then thumps the earth. Then it’s gone into a burrow.

I see the flash of two more white tails before the area is completely cleared of all rabbit life.

It’s a shame, but I don’t blame them. It’s smart to be afraid of humans, even if I personally mean them no harm. I’m sure plenty of people around can’t say the same.

I wander over the crest of one of the hills closer to the hotel and see that the dip beyond it is steeper than I expected. Glancing back one last time, I begin my descent, figuring I can walk back the way I came if I get tired.

Maybe the jet lag is having the opposite effect.

Before long, I find myself walking up to the top of the first of the hills making up the ridge I can see from my room’s window. I look back to see an incredible view of the hotel and the valley it stands over.

It’s clear why the old lords and warrior kings chose these spots for their homes. They had everything they could possibly need with a clear view of the surrounding area, natural resources, and the beauty of the highlands around them.

It’s surrounded by trees up here, not quite dense enough to be a full-on forest, but enough to offer cooling shade from the sun and to carpet my path with soft leaves from previous falls.

I set my eyes forward, and there it is– the loch.

The water is glistening under the afternoon sun, reminding me that I only have so much time to explore before I have to get back to the hotel for dinner.

However, I’m sure there is still enough time to make it down to the loch, sit awhile, and then walk back.

Above the loch stands another castle, facing toward the slope which leads down into the water. It’s even more majestic than the hotel, making me dream of British TV dramas featuring rich nobles and glorious countrysides.

I take a deep breath of the fresh air.

It was a great decision, coming here. I can already feel it invigorating me.

There is something about coming home to the ancestral lands of your forefathers that just feels right – and it helps that these particular lands are breathtakingly beautiful.

With that, I start down the hill toward the loch. I hook my hands through the straps of my backpack to help steady myself.

I’m so lost in the loveliness of the landscape and the quiet of the wild nature – which is its own kind of loud with bird calls and insects and wind rustling grass and leaves – that I almost don’t register the noise at first.

All of a sudden, I can hear a human voice, and a moment later, I realize it’s the sound of a man shouting.

I look up at the picturesque view of the loch, now only a relatively short distance away, I swing my eyes to the side and pick him out.

It’s a man – and he’s running toward me, shouting something.

Something that sounds angry, even though I can’t quite yet pick out the individual words.

He certainly doesn’t look happy either, running down the hill like a madman.

And it looks like he’s holding a shotgun.

CHAPTER TWO

Finlay

I’m on my regular daily walk, strolling the land. I take these walks after lunch, always visiting a different part of the estate each time, trying to change my schedule so that no one knows exactly where I am.

It isn’t paranoia if it’s justified.

So many times I have stumbled on people doing things they shouldn’t just because they expected me to be somewhere else.

Sometimes I will even write up a fake schedule of where and when I will be if I suspect one of the newer employees of having unscrupulous motives and leave it around the office.

I shove my hand deep into my pocket, shaking my head in annoyance. Last week, I had to let a lad go. He was down from a college miles away, trying to learn estate management. Well, that hadn’t lasted long.


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