by D. K. Combs
The two men he’d previously felled came charging over the hill. He groaned, especially when he felt Alice’s tiny body stir behind his. When her slender hand touched his arm, he wanted to murder someone. She was too innocent to see this, to see death.
“Alice,” he whispered, “I’m going to distract them. I want you to take my horse and get to the castle. Find Brodrick and tell him what’s happening. Do ye’ understand?”
Her short, gasping breath fell on his shoulder. She could feel her tremors from behind him and his heart clenched.
“If I take the horse, you’ll be alone. I will not leave you to your death!” she said fiercely. One of them men came at him, and Kane growled, bracing himself for the impact. He couldn’t swing with his body guarding Alice, especially since the two of them were on the ground. Kane knocked the man’s sword out of his hands then quickly dragged Alice to her feet, shoving her farther behind him.
“Do no’ fight me on this, lass. Go, damn you,” he snarled. He didn’t give her a second glance. Two of them came for him at once.
The battle had begun in earnest.
Saeran watched in horror as two men came at Kane with the speed and strength of a bull. He dodged them, moving with a grace that couldn’t be real, then grabbed one of them by the hair, throwing him into the ground. The rest of them came and he took care of them with ease, not even breaking a sweat.
She couldn’t make herself get to the horse. That’s what he was waiting for—she knew it. He wouldn’t kill a man in front of her, so he was going to wait until she was gone, tiring them out and making them weak.
The ferocity of his movements, the precise dictation of his sword and the way it sliced through the air held her still. Fear climbed in her throat—but not for herself. Nay, she knew that Kane would be victorious in this fight.
She also knew why he was called The Lion of the Highlands.
His grace. The menacing aura that came from his every pore. Even the men he was fighting began to realize this, backing away from him, their eyes wide with the realization that they would die by his hand.
Saeran wasn’t going to leave him. It was a coward’s way out, even if everyone here knew he was going to win. He was still in front of her, his huge, thick shoulders flexing with every move. With a quick prayer, she reached forward, deftly sliding one of his dirks from around his waist. It was large in her hands, but the training she’d been forced to endure for the past month prepared her for it.
Too bad for her, her thievery drew the attention of the man who’d first came upon her. His eyes raked over her with a lust-filled sneer. Her blood ran cold. Kane became a vague figure in her peripheral as she backed away from him, drawing the man towards her.
She was scared. So scared that her heart was climbing up her throat, but she would not become weak. Being weak had gotten her into this situation. If she’d fought him off as she knew how the first time he came for her, this wouldn’t be happening right now, and Kane would have one less thing to worry about.
As it was, the fight managed to draw enough of Kane’s attention that he didn’t notice the blonde man giving him a wide berth as he ran around the fight, to Saeran. She held the knife in front of her, forcing herself to look weak, terrified.
She was terrified, but she wasn’t as weak as she appeared to be. She might feel like it in front of the large man, but she wasn’t. Brodrick had shown her enough that she could do this.
He leered.
“The MacLeod would like a piece of ye’, I bet. Especially if yer the laird’s betrothed, the lass everyone has been talking about,” he mused, flashing a yellow smile at her. Her blood could have turned to ice. She met his eyes, holding the knife tightly, not saying a word. The smile dropped from his face. “Mayhap I’d like a taste of ye’ myself.”
Then he moved. It was quicker than she’d expected, but Brodrick hadn’t held back with her in the ring. She moved out of his way, letting her body roll into the ground, and then slashed outward with her dirk, catching him on the back of his calf. He made a rough sound of pain and then turned around, sword falling into the ground.
He planned to have his way with her the second he grabbed her, she realized.
Shaking and more terrified than she’d ever been in her life, she did the only thing she could think to.
Pushing herself to her feet, she waited until he was just in front of her, his hands just within reaching distance. She met his eyes, then raised her leg.
Her foot connected with his bollocks and he lurched forward, face turning red.
“Bitch,” he hissed. She wasn’t prepared for the hand that came for her throat, or how tight his fingers were when they wrapped around her neck. Her air cut off as he dragged her to the ground with him, one of his hands pressed between his legs. She couldn’t make a sound, not even cry out for Kane.
Kane’s dirk clattered to the ground when the man grabbed her by the arms, holding her down by her wrists with one hand. She gasped for air, only finding...nothing. There was no way to draw in air. Blackness began to dot her vision, pain slamming behind her eyes.
“Goin’ to pay for that,” he snarled, pulling her head back by her neck, only to slam her back into the ground. The sound that wrenched from her throat was stuck by his hand and she would have screamed from the pain of it if she could.
The battle warred on behind her. She vaguely heard Kane’s roar of fury in the background, but the clatter of swords striking against each other did not lessen. Blindly, terror beginning to take over her mind, she used the last of her strength to break free of his hold. She slapped out with her hands, raking him across the face with her nails and then jabbing her hand into his throat. Her other hand reached for the fallen dirk, and when her fingers wrapped around the hilt, tears of relief stung her eyes.
The hope of escape gave her the strength to bring the dirk up, stabbing it into the arm that was cutting off her air. He reared back, howling, and air rushed into her lungs with such force that she became lightheaded.
She didn’t have a time to adjust. He came for her, bleeding, and she rolled out of his way, bringing the blade down into his back when he crumpled into the ground. She gasped for breath, the tears finally falling down her cheeks.
He wasn’t dead, but he was stunned.
“Fuck,” a familiar voice snarled. Kane came into her vision. She couldn’t make herself look at him. All she could see was the blood that was pooling out of the guy’s back, sliding down the side of his ribs. She swallowed, vomit rising in her throat. “If I ever see any of ye’ again, ye’ll no’ make it out alive.”
The bellow ended as an echo. Thick arms wrapped around her body, drawing her close against Kane’s warm chest. The shock of everything that had just happened kept her still, shocked. Terrified. She met Kane’s eyes, her lower lip trembling as her panting turned into full gasps for air.
She vaguely realized that the fight was over, that Kane was carrying her away from men who were scrambling away from the scene. The scene where she’d almost died, where Kane hadn’t been there to save her, and she had to do it herself.
“Let’s go,” Kane bit out. He mounted, then dragged her up with him, setting her on his lap. One of his arms wrapped around her waist. As they took off, she let the rush of emotion she’d been holding back wash over her.
The pounding of hooves and the wind in her face gave her the cover she needed to let it go.
THT | 17
"When I tell ye' to go, ye' go. What is so hard to understand about that?" He dismounted, dragging her with him. When he stood in front of her, the water from the creek trickling beside them, he was livid. Furious. Adrenalized. The rush of emotion from the battle was slowly fading away.
Kane wanted to wring her fragile neck. The urge to wrap his hands around her throat and shake sense into her was nearly overwhelming, but he managed to refrain himself.
Barely. Just barely.
Large, blue eyes looked up at his. They weren't filled with tears like he'd expected.
What he saw was so much worse.
Shame. She was ashamed. Not terrified and weeping like weak, tiny women should, but ashamed.
Kane had a feeling that it wasn't because of her failing to follow orders. It was what he'd said. He knew it as surely as he knew the blade of his claymore. His chest tightened.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, lowering her head. Her shoulders curled into the same defensive slouch they'd been in for most of the day. He wanted to roar. She had to be traumatized by the event in some way, and he was only making it worse.
He came toward her, holding out his hand. "Lass," he said lowly, hating his burst of anger. He'd failed in protecting her. She had been vulnerable and he hadn't been there to save her. She should be the furious one, not he.
Though, if she had listened to him...
The fury returned with a vengeance. It nearly robbed him of breath. A simple order, and the lass couldn't have listened to him. It would have saved her and none of this would have happened. She could have left, he could have killed the MacLeods, and she wouldn't have had to harm a man.
A man who she'd left alive.
A man who would, most likely, seek revenge.
"I couldn't leave you," she said. Her eyes raised to his and the fire there only fueled his own. "How could you ask me to do that? They would have killed you! I could have helped!"
He roared with laughter. "Ye'? Ye' could have helped me? Lass, yer a waif. Ye' couldn't lift a dirk if it would save yer life."
Her eyes snapped with fire. "I remember quite clearly taking your own dirk from you. I also remember quite clearly when I had to use it against a man. Do not say that I couldn't have helped you." She threw said dirk on the ground. He stared at it. Shame ate at his chest.
"If ye'd have listened to me, this wouldn't be a problem. Ye' should have ran when I said to."
"I did!" she said furiously, slapping her hands onto her hips.
"But no' the second time," he growled, taking an involuntary step forward. She met him step for step, hands fisted at her sides. He wanted to be confused and shocked by the outburst, but one; he was too angry with the unreasonable lass, and two; he should have expected it. She'd already shown him how high her flames could jump when he tested them.
To think that she'd remain docile under a chastising would absurd. Still, something felt wrong. Her reaction, the immediate shame she'd seemed to feel...it felt wrong. Like it was an automatic reaction, imbedded into her being. What could make a woman like that?
There was more to Alice than a pretty face, and he wanted to know what it was.
"I was trying to help you. Ye'd just turn away an extra hand?"
"Alice, yer a lady. Ye' donna fight, and I sure as hell willna let you. If ye'd have just left when I told you to, both times, without hesitating and disobeying me, I could have taken care o' the threat—instead, I let it get right to ye'. Alice, that bastard, he almost..."
Her gaze softened.
"But he didn't."
"And that made ye' have to stab him. Yer a lady," he repeated, dragging a hand through his hair. "A lady does no' fight with a man, Alice. I'm to protect ye'. That is how it is"
She rolled her eyes. "Please—you saw perfectly well how I can protect myself."
"Aye, with a wee dirk, after he had ye' on the ground and was choking ye'." The words were like acid coming out of his mouth. He pressed his lips, shaking his head. "We'll no' be discussing this. 'Tis over and yer safe."
"Because I saved myself," she said proudly, crossing her arms over her chest. He growled, taking another step towards her. She didn't move an inch. The only thing that happened was a quirk to her full, pink lips, and her thin brow rose.
He growled, acting before he could think about it. She wasn't ready, they were both fighting for control of the situation, but damn her, she was beautiful. One moment, they were squaring off. The next, his arm was wrapping around her waist, his hand sliding into the back of her hair, and her lips were against his.
Saeran froze.
Her breath, her heart, her body. All of her concentration was centered on the pair of lips that were moving over hers with skillful strokes.
She'd never been kissed.
She'd never seen anyone kiss, either. Her parents had kept it away from her, and while at court, she'd hid in the library or study. She'd avoided it religiously.
There was no way for her to avoid this, though. It was happening to her. His hand was at the back of her head, his thumb holding her jaw, urging it open. She wanted to hate what was happening, but the longer he held her there, his mouth on hers, she started to relax. Gradually, kiss by kiss, her body began to melt against his.
Tentatively, she opened her mouth when his tongue slid around her lower lip, almost like he was asking for her permission.
"Kiss me, lass," he grated against her mouth. The deep desire she heard in his commanding words were enough to melt the rest of her resistance. With a little sigh, she opened fully for him, moving her hands from his chest to his shoulders, clutching his large body to hers.
He groaned and the sound sent a shiver through her. His hands slid around her back and down, until he could hold her hips tightly against hers, letting her feel the hard length of his body against hers. Stars swam in her vision, lungs seizing.
His tongue probed her mouth. Confusion and desire rose at the same time, her body reacting to his attentions. She didn't know what to do, but that was fine. He dominated her with his kiss, robing her of control and sense and propriety. He was attacking her mouth with the ferocity he'd used against the men, but the tenderness, the passion inside of him, made it all the more delicious.
"There ye' go," he growled, pulling away from her slightly. A sound left her lips, one of desperation. How could he pull away from her like—
Saeran didn't have to continue her mentally anguished rant. Kane slid an arm under her knees and one around her back. She didn't have time to protest before he was setting her on a section of wooden fencing. He moved between her legs, dipping his head to her neck. Her eyes shot wide as his mouth opened against her neck, sending a wave of hot breath washing over her.
"What...what are you doing to me?" she asked, her voice airy, shocked.
"Kissing ye'. Do ye' no' like it, lass?" he asked, chuckling against her neck. Her pulse pounded, and she was sure he could feel it. When he brushed his lips against it, she knew her suspicions had been confirmed correct. A shudder went through it.
"I...my lord, this is wrong..." She forgot why, but she knew it was. He kissed her again, lightly nipping the flesh above her racing pulse. He grunted, sliding his hand from around her back to her waist, traveling dangerously close to her breasts. She instinctively pulled away from him.
Saeran forgot that she was balanced on a fence, of course, and began to fall backwards. She grabbed or his shoulders as his arms came around her. She clung to him, then lifted her eyes to his.
They instantly closed.
His lips came over hers with a vengeance, as if making up for the time they hadn't been there, and she moaned, forgetting everything except him. When one of his hands closed over her breasts, she didn't pull away from him. She should have, but her body was screaming at her to let him touch her, to touch him back, to take as much as he was willing to give her.
When his lips once again left her neck, she let her instincts take over, determined to let her passions run free. She'd spent so long keeping them hidden, keeping everything hidden except the demure girl her sister had tried to make her be—and later, a boy. Now, with Kane, she was slowly losing control of herself—and she loved it.
She didn't know the man who was wringing such passionate feelings from her, but it didn't feel like that. His lips roamed over her neck, down to her collarbone. Her hands threaded into his hair, holding his head against her. It felt natural, like this was how it should be, how she should feel.
Wild. Free. Desired.
Kane was doing this to her, making her feel like thi
s.
Heat ran through her body, striking her right in the gut. Her legs tightened around him, pulling him even closer. The only thing separating them was her clothing, and not even the thin layers of clothing could block the heat that was emitting from him. The heat that was affecting her in the worst of passionate ways.
"Are ye' alright, my lady?" His voice sent shivers over her skin. She pressed her hands into his shoulders, urging him on with a silent "yes", feeling intoxicated. That was the only reason she was letting this happen, she thought vaguely, gasping when he reached behind her, undoing some of the top laces of her dress. His fingers were deft and warm, every brush of his skin against hers making tendrils of desire curl in her gut.
Soon enough, her bodice wasn't as tight, and the small bit of control she had was gone. His lips caressed her collarbone, up until the top of her dress was loose. She froze at the first draft of wind across her breasts. Saeran started to pull away, heart thundering with a mixture of confusion and desire. Her face heated when she saw the hunger in his eyes as he stared at her, at a place no one but her mother and sister had seen. She started to cover herself, but his growl of approval stopped her.
She stared at him like rabbit about to be shot with an arrow.
"Why...why did you do that?" she asked shakily. Saeran wanted to draw the dress to her chest, to shield herself from him, but there was also a part of her that...didn't. She wanted him to see her as she was. She wanted him to see a part of her that she'd kept hidden from him as the boy she pretended she was.
"Because," he said lowly, the thickness of his desire-laden brogue enough to make her eyes close, "I wanted to see ye'. Donna cover yersef, lass. I'll be taking my fill of ye'." Then, without another word, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him—except this time, her breasts were eye level with his face. Saeran was still, afraid to move lest he stop himself from whatever he had planned for her.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked before she could stop herself. When one corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk, she wanted to weep at the wave of lust that shot through her because of it.