"I’ll hold ya ta yer word," he said grimly. Turning, he snatched the door open and left, slamming it behind him.
Surprise held Chloe rooted to the spot for all of two seconds. Rage very quickly replaced it, however. Her body was still throbbing with unfulfilled desire, pulsing with need. "Asshole!" she shouted at the door panel, then looked around for something to throw to release her fury.
The room was virtually bare of anything she had a chance of lifting. Releasing a high pitched growl of rage, she stomped over to the trunk and flopped down on top it. She didn’t know what pissed her off more, the fact that she’d fallen for his ruse and done exactly as he’d commanded her to, or the fact that he’d aroused her so thoroughly and then simply left her hanging.
It was sobering. For the first time in her life, she actually understood why men got so nasty about being abandoned in the throes of passion. Not that she’d ever done such a thing herself, but she’d known girls who thought it was cute. Some did it because it inflated their ego to think they could get a guy all hot and bothered so easily. Others considered it a fitting revenge.
She’d always considered it just plain mean … and stupid.
Her eyes narrowed. If Sean thought this kind of punishment was going to work on her, he had another think coming!
Of course, it had worked, she added mentally, rubbing her throbbing clit soothingly. She supposed he had some really stupid idea that he was being gentle with her by not beating her ass, as he’d threatened.
There was at least a little satisfaction in knowing he hadn’t come off unscathed. She’d been stunned by his actions, but not so stunned that she hadn’t seen the rock hard erection tenting his tartan.
A smile of satisfaction curled her lips. If he wanted war, he was going to get it. Two could play the teasing game as easily as one!
Chapter Ten
Sean paused at the head of the stairs, breathing deeply to tamp his raging desire, and his raging temper, before he descended the stairs. He ran a shaking hand over his face, but since he could smell the essence of her desire on his skin, it did nothing to calm him.
He didn’t know what had come over him.
He frowned. Refusing to acknowledge it wasn’t going to make it go away. It had been jealousy driving him. He hadn’t been surprised at the way Ian looked at Chloe. He hadn’t liked it, but it was to be expected. She was beautiful. There wasn’t a man on the place that didn’t look at her with the same hunger in his eyes.
The way she’d smiled at Ian had been another matter entirely. The moment he saw it, his brain had fogged with a red haze of completely irrational jealousy and he hadn’t been able to think far beyond that.
He was furious about her attempt to escape when he’d been kind enough, or weak minded enough, to allow her to roam freely about the castle. He’d been almost as unnerved by the risks she’d so blithely taken as he was angry, but everything had been wiped from his mind by the jealousy.
He supposed the decision to punish her in such a way had been spawned in part by a complete unwillingness to injure her, but he knew it was also spawned by the need to assure himself that she wanted him as much as he wanted her, that she would respond to his touch as readily, and as warmly as she had before.
Now he realized that it had been an incredibly stupid thing to do. He’d thoroughly aroused her and then left her without fulfilling her needs.
He had left her ripe for the taking.
Fear warred with rage at that thought. He almost turned around right then and went back. It occurred to him, though, that she’d had plenty of time to cool down, plenty of time to consider cutting his throat. She wasn’t likely to be at all receptive to his belated attempts to please her.
Worse, more than likely, she would set out to show him she’d do as she pleased, regardless of the oath he’d pried from her.
"Shit!" he ground out disgustedly. Glancing back toward the door of the room, he hesitated for several moments and finally stomped down the stairs.
* * * *
"Did ya beat the lass, then?" Ian, who met him at the foot of the stairs, demanded the moment he saw his brother.
Sean’s eyes widened. "Sure an’ she needed a thorough thrashin’ fer that stunt she pulled, nae the least because she’d hae been in serious danger if she’d succeeded, but ye’ve never known me ta do such a thing and I’d like ta know why yer accusin’ me o’ it now."
Ian frowned. "I’d nae have thought it, but … ya might as well know the talk is tha’ ye’ve dishonored the lass."
Sean’s expression hardened. "I’ve always said bad news travels twice as fast as good, but ye’ve nae been home an hour."
Ian looked a little sheepish. "I got back yesterday, but since ya were no where about I decided to take care o’ some business of my own."
"Ya were out wenchin’?"
Ian flushed, but didn’t deny it.
"Ye’d best take care o’ which you poke yer cock inta or we’ll hae more trouble than ya can shake a stick at."
Ian’s lips tightened. "As it happens, it was a bawd."
"Them too. Some of ‘em’s got pussy’s that’ll rot yer cock off."
Ian glared at him. "I’m a little more discriminatin’ than ta be tossin’ them with diseases. An’ dinna think ta distract me. Sure the lass is a Monroe, but Ma’d be turnin’ in her grave ta think yer nae behavin’ like a gentleman, an’ abusin’ the lass besides. Talk is she was screamin’ somethin’ fierce an’ ya gagged her."
A crimson tide crept up Sean’s face, but only part of it was anger. "Yer forgettin’ yer place, little brother. I dinna answer ta ya. It’s t’other way around."
"I hae nae forgotten my place. I ken yer laird here, but I’ll nae stand idly by, neither, an’ allow ya ta seduce a well bred young lady."
Sean snorted at this last, but his eyes narrowed. "Ye’ve an’ interest in the lass?"
Ian opened his mouth, but closed it again at the look in his brother’s eyes. For a moment, he simply stared at his older brother, but, slowly, a smile dawned. "Ye’ve fallen for the lass."
Sean looked taken aback for several moments, then irritation replaced it. "Dinna be daft, man! Yer forgettin’ she’s a Monroe."
Ian’s brows rose. "She’s a hand full I suspect."
"Ya dinna ken the half o’ it."
"Now that I think on it, though, ya looked a bit more than alarmed when ya discovered her deception."
Sean’s lips tightened with annoyance. "I was thinkin’ about the ransom."
"Sure, an’ I’m a leprechaun."
Sean decided to ignore that last remark. "What did the Monroe’s hae ta say about my proposal?"
"Chloe’s missin’ right enough, but they’d nae take me word for it that you’d captured her. They’re sendin’ a man ta hae a look at the girl."
Sean dismissed that. "Ye should hae come ta me at once when ya returned. Ya knew I was worried about sending ya in the first place."
This time Ian shrugged. "If they’d had a notion I was yer brother, I’d be kickin’ my heels in the dungeon now. It went smooth, Sean, just as I said. I ken ya had ta send me. Any idea who the traitors are among us yet?"
Sean shook his head. "Mayhap fortune smiled upon us an’ the traitors were dispatched by the Kincaids."
Ian studied him shrewdly. "But ya dinna think so, do ya?"
"Nae more than I believe they’d gone ta the meeting place to guard my back … which is what their women seemed ta think."
"Providence smiled upon ya, Sean, when he placed the lass in yer path," Ian said solemnly. "I dinna care ta think what might hae happened if ye’d nae stopped."
Frowning, Sean glanced upwards, toward the room where he’d left Chloe.
* * * *
"There’s a man come from the Monroe, Laird Sean," the servant who met them told Sean when he and his brother, Ian, returned from their ride. Sean and Ian exchanged a look.
"Where’s the lass?"
Doyle shrugged. "In yer room. She’s nae been see
n since the … uh … since yesterday. We figured ye’d locked her up."
Sean frowned. "She was nae in the hall last eve?" He and Ian had gone to try to smooth things over with the Kincaids. Negotiations had not gone well and he wasn’t in a particularly cheerful mood, especially since he’d found himself lying wakeful much of the night worrying that Chloe might take it into her head to try to escape again while he was away.
Doyle shook his head.
Tossing the reins to Ian, Sean strode purposefully into the castle. Ian watched him until he’d disappeared. "Yer certain the lass hasna slipped out again?"
"Aye. Maggie’s been keepin’ an eye on her."
Ian frowned. "Ya should ha’ told Sean as much. He’s bound to think the worst." He saw it was too late to catch up with Sean, however. By the time he got inside, Sean had already reached the upper landing. Shrugging, he went off to find a bite to eat. Sean had set a breakneck pace and they’d not stopped at all on the way back.
"The girl’s daft," Maggie muttered to Sean as he strode past her. "She’s had us lugging water up the better part of two days."
He checked, glanced at Maggie, then down at the bucket of muddy water she was carrying. Shaking his head, he continued to the door of his room, which was standing open.
Chloe was down on her hands and knees, her ass turned up to the door. Sean halted as if he’d hit a brick wall, so mesmerized by the undulating motion it was several moments after it stopped before he became aware that Chloe had turned to look at him, the brush in her hand suspended mid-air. He frowned, realizing her skirts were tucked between her legs and that most of her legs were completely exposed. "What do ya call yerself doin’, lass?"
Chloe sniffed. "Scrubbing. I should’ve taken a shovel to it first," she said irritably.
The nearly overpowering smell stinging his nostrils finally registered and Sean glanced around, wondering where it was coming from. The room was bare. Not so much as a stick of furniture nor a stool remained. A fire blazed on the hearth. Tiny droplets of water trickled down the walls. "What’ve ya done with my things!" he demanded.
Chloe paused again and turned to look at him. "There were bugs," she said, obviously outraged. "I would’ve burned everything, but Maggie went tattling to that cousin of yours, Doyle, and he refused to let me. It’s all in the yard."
Sean ground his teeth and strode toward her with the intention of snatching her to her feet so that he could shake a straight answer out of her. He planted one boot in the middle of a soggy cake of soap, however, and skidded past her. It was only by virtue of his excellent sense of balance that he managed to stay on his feet at all.
Chloe watched him slide across the floor open mouthed. When he finally stopped, she giggled. "You looked like a surfer dude!"
Sean, his heart still thundering in his throat, glared at her. "Ya left soap on the floor! It’s a bleedin’ miracle I dinna break my head!"
"You’re good, though," Chloe complimented him. "If it’d been me, I’d probably have mopped the floor with my ass."
Sean ground his teeth. "Damn it, lass! What the hell is goin’ on here!"
Chloe shrugged. "You told me I could clean all I wanted to. I figured, since it looked like I might be here a while, I should clean the place up before I died of filth. Not that I like to clean, mind you. Ordinarily, I hate cleaning, but I couldn’t convince anybody else to do it … actually, if it wasn’t for Doyle, I probably wouldn’t have been able to get them to bring the water, but he told Maggie and Virginia they’d have to bring the water up for me. Then Virginia claimed this morning that she was half dead from lugging water up yesterday and she stayed in bed."
With great care, Sean stepped over to her, grasped her arm and hauled her to her feet. "The Monroe has sent a man to see ya. Ye’ll have to come down." A look that was half dismay and half dawning anger flashed across his features as he got his first good look at her, however. She’d tucked the skirt between her legs and tied it at the waist. Her hands, and her legs from the knee down were reddened from the lye in the soap and puckered from the water. "By the saints! Ya look as if ye’ve been tortured. The man’ll be swearin’ ye’ve been ill used! And what the hell do ya mean by exposing yer limbs fer all the world to gawk at!"
"The world hasn’t been up here!" Chloe pointed out, remembering belatedly how agitated he’d been when she hiked her skirts up to climb over the bench. "Only me, Maggie, Virginia and a couple of the stable boys, who brought up the wood for the fire and some of the water for cleaning."
Sean nearly turned purple with rage that time. "Ye’ve been exposin’ yerself ta the stable boys?"
Chloe looked him over a little doubtfully. "Actually, no," she lied without so much as batting an eyelash. "I was working on the walls then. It wasn’t until I got to the floor--just a little while ago--that I tucked the dress up, because it kept getting in the way." What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her and she thought it doubtful that Doyle would admit that he and the men who’d helped him lug the furnishings out had loitered by the door until Maggie had run them off.
He seemed slightly mollified. "Set yerself ta rights."
"But … I’m almost done. Can’t it wait a few minutes?"
"Nay, it canna!"
Shrugging, Chloe untied the dress and shook it out the best she could, smoothing it with her hands. Sean looked her over disapprovingly. "Ya hair looks as if it’s nae seen a comb in a month."
Chole glared at him. "I haven’t seen a comb or brush since I’ve been here!" she said indignantly. "I thought maybe they hadn’t been invented yet."
Dipping his hands in the mop water, he dragged his wet fingers through her hair before she could protest. "That looks a bit better."
Chloe rolled her eyes. "Only a man would think hair slicked into place with mud looked better!"
Ignoring the remark, Sean gripped her arm and led her carefully toward the door. Maggie was sitting outside, her shoulders slumped. "Finish cleaning the floor, Maggie," Sean snapped as he strode past her with barely a glance.
Chloe threw an apologetic glance back at her as Sean hauled her toward the stairs.
The hall was virtually empty when they arrived. Besides Ian, there were a handful of men that Chloe recognized from having seen them before. Standing a little away from them and looking ill at ease, were three other men that were not only complete strangers, but who were all wearing kilts of a different color than the Fraziers. She decided they must be the representatives from the Monroes. The oldest of the three men separated himself from the other two and came forward to meet her and Sean.
"Lass! Have they harmed ya?"
Chloe’s eyebrows rose. She studied the man a moment, glanced at Sean and then looked at the man again. "I don’t know you!" she exclaimed indignantly. She threw an anxious glance in Sean’s direction, saw that he was staring at her with a look of blank surprise that reflected the other man’s expression and said, "I don’t. I really don’t."
The man looked taken aback for several moments, then doubtful, and finally his face reddened with anger. "Ya need nae fear to acknowledge me, lass," he said in a quiet, rumbling voice. "I’ve told them I’m yer uncle."
"But…." Chloe had been on the point of insisting she’d never laid eyes on him before, but something stopped her. It might have been the fire in Sean’s eyes or the blood pulsing in his temple. Frowning, she decided she probably ought to consider the situation a little more carefully before she said anything else.
Oddly enough, the man really did act as if he knew her. She couldn’t think of a single reason why he would behave that way unless he thought he did. The question was, why did he think so?
She must look like someone he knew.
A lot.
The man was supposed to be an uncle. Surely, a close family relation would be really hard to fool? Unless, of course, he was a close family relation that didn’t actually know his niece. "You know me? I mean, you recognize me?"
Her ‘uncle’ glared at Sean. "What’s happe
ned ta the lass? I’m as close ta her as her own father and now she behaves as if she’s never set eyes on me in her life!"
That shot that theory all to hell and gone. Moreover, Sean looked like he was about to bust a blood vessel. "I bumped my head," she offered quickly.
His attention diverted, the man stared at her speculatively for several moments. "This is not some tale ye’ve concocted ta get out of yer betrothal?"
Chloe’s brows rose almost to her hairline. She glanced at Sean, but it was obvious from the look on his face that he’d had no idea. She frowned, giving herself a mental smack on the forehead. Of course he hadn’t. He hadn’t even known she was a Monroe until she’d told him.
What was she thinking? This was really giving her a headache, and her uncle’s announcement only made her more uneasy. She was really up shit’s creek now.
Sean was determined to get his ransom.
Her ‘uncle’ was determined to drag her back to marry some man she didn’t know.
And all because she’d been stupid enough to make a wish … that had apparently coincided with somebody else’s wish.
Oh Christ! She thought in sudden horror. Had they switched places?
That … BITCH was in HER time!
She knew it suddenly, and absolutely. It hadn’t been her wish at all! The Chloe from here must be like a witch or something.
She was going to kill her when she got her hands on the witch!
"Uh … I forget. Who am I betrothed to?"
Her uncle glared at him. "As if ye’d forget ye’d been betrothed ta the Kincaid when ya were fit ta be tied over it!"
"What?" Sean roared.
Chapter Eleven
Sean was in a really foul mood. He and the Monroe uncle had still been roaring at each other when Ian had grabbed her, led her back upstairs and then locked her in! She’d been so stunned it had taken her several moments to figure out that he’d actually locked the door. When it sank in, she began hammering at the panel with her fist, but he’d either ignored her loud protests or he hadn’t been able to hear her above the din downstairs.
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