To Steal a Highlander's Heart

by Samantha Holt

  She stiffened as he ordered his mount to lower. “Ye cannae take me to my da, he’ll have yer head.”

  “I’ve little intention of taking ye to yer da or losing my head.”

  Morgann climbed onto his chestnut mare, Caraid, and settled Alana across his lap. She cradled her sore wrist and it was clear she was in more pain than she’d revealed. Stubborn lass. Ach, but he was a fool. He didn’t even know what had come over him when he’d seen her, only that this was his one opportunity to finally reveal the truth and by God he was going to take it.

  Why exactly had he been trespassing on Dunleith land again? He frowned as he tried to recall.

  “What are ye planning to do with me, Morgann?”

  He liked the way his name rolled off her tongue. Sweet like honey, yet spicy and inviting. What was he planning to do with her anyway? Ransom her? Mayhap. Or at least use her as a bargaining tool. Or keep her forever…

  He shrugged off the thought. Fool. If he was to ever reveal the truth to his father, he needed every advantage. Even if it meant kidnapping the Laird of Dunleith’s daughter.

  “I’ll take ye to Glencolum. We’ll get ye back to full health there.”

  She wriggled against his hold but her injuries must have weakened her and now he was ready for a fight, he held her easily.

  “Ye were trying to kidnap me!” she exclaimed with a huff of frustration.

  He shrugged as he directed the horse northwards to Glencolum Keep and his family lands. Back to safety.

  “Ye, Morgann, are naught but a lowlife criminal. A barbarian scoundrel. Return me home, ye bloody fool. Ye’ll be beheaded for this, just ye see. My da will come get me and he’ll kill all of ye. Ye and yer kinsmen. Put me down!”

  Morgann grunted as a pointy elbow connected with his stomach. “Keep still. Yer lucky ye didnae kill yerself with that fall. I dinnae want to be returning ye to yer da in pieces.”

  In truth, he didn’t want to be returning her harmed at all. The lass was fortunate she’d not done any real damage. A sprained wrist and a bump to the head was naught compared to what could have occurred. But, by God, she was spirited. What happened to the sweet little lassie he’d known? Insulting him? She’d never have done that before.

  “Be still,” he tried again as her bottom wriggled against him. He bit back a grunt. He’d not had a woman in far too long. She had no idea what kind of trouble she was getting herself into. “Alana, if ye dinnae be still, I swear I’ll put ye over my knee.”

  She gasped. “Ye wouldnae!”

  “I would.”

  “Ach, I dinnae believe ye. Ye always said a man who beat a woman was no man at all. I remember,” she replied smugly.

  Hell, she had him there. What else did the lass remember? What else did she know? He’d not seen her since that night when the tentative peace between the MacRaes and the Campbells had ended. All thanks to him.

  She’d asked him how he knew her wrist wasn’t broken. Well, he had seen many injuries far more grievous than a sprained wrist in the years since. The fighting had been brutal and bloody. Now both clans kept their distance, afraid of any more losses. Both too stubborn and proud to even think of forgetting the past hurts. Not that he would ever forgive Dougall Campbell. Aye, he’d left them well enough alone recently but given the chance the man would snatch his lands from underneath him.

  Ignoring her pointed statement, he kept his focus on the ragged horizon. And not on the supple little body pressing into him. Nay, he wouldn’t think on that and how perfect she felt.

  He gave Caraid a light kick with his heels. He needed to get to Glencolum as quickly as possible. And it was not fear of the Campbells catching up that drove him.

  ***

  Tèile grimaced as she wriggled in the saddle bag of the Highland warrior. It was hot and cramped and certainly not fit of for a faerie. And they were making quick progress. Far too quick. Before long they would be back at the keep and around others. The boorish humans would never allow them a chance for love to blossom. If only she was allowed to meddle with their hearts. Unfortunately human hearts were beyond the reach of faeries. But no matter, she would implant a few dreams next time they slept. First she needed to slow them down.

  Peeking out of the top of the leather satchel, she glanced at the skies. No sign of even the slightest rain. The clear sky with its puffy white clouds was sickeningly devoid of interesting weather. Well, she would soon change that. A few muttered words and the grey clouds rolled in.

  Ha, let’s see if that would not slow them down.

  Chapter Two

  Alana watched the sky darken with apprehension. This day had gone from mildly confusing to outrageously strange. Kidnapped, thrown from a horse, kidnapped again. And now it looked as though they were about to be caught up in the most sudden storm she’d ever witnessed in her three and twenty summers.

  “Morgann…” She shifted so she could see him out of the corner of her eye.

  He glanced down, pinning her with his powerful gaze.

  “There looks to be a storm.”

  “Aye, I can see that.”

  “Should we not stop?”

  “And where, pray tell, should we stop?”

  “I know not. But I dinnae want to get wet.”

  And she wanted a chance to escape again but she wouldn’t mention that part. Ach, her first taste of freedom in years and she’d been kidnapped. She certainly wasn’t going to let herself be taken prisoner. The MacRaes hated the Campbells. Who knew what was in store for her? But for the moment her head hurt too much to put up a real fight and she really did not want to fall from the mount again. Let him think she would cooperate for the moment. Mayhap he would let down his guard and give her a chance to escape.

  Fat heavy drops began to fall, pattering against the grey rocks strewn across the hills and soaking through her clothing. Morgann cursed into her hair but continued to push his mount on through the valley as the leaden clouds converged about the mountains, washing the scenery with ominous shadows.

  In the distance the heavy rumble of thunder sounded, making Alana shiver. The steady rainfall leached through to her skin, increasing the quaking of her body until her teeth chattered and Morgann cursed once more and eased her into his torso.

  His chest provided some warmth. More than she wanted to think about really. She’d always admired him when they were younger but she did not need to be nursing an attraction to him while he kidnapped her. If he succeeded in taking her back to Glencolum Keep, the tension between the two clans would ignite and Highland blood would paint the hills red.

  Nay, that could not be allowed to happen. Her father suffered with his health. No longer a great Highland warrior, war surely meant death for him. Alana loved him dearly, in spite of his flaws. Da was determined to still be seen as a man of great strength and power and who could blame him? But his warmongering ways spelled trouble for their entire clan. Since that day eight summers ago, life had been fraught with danger and she’d been confined to the keep.

  A shudder wracked her again and she acquiesced to the warm strength of Morgann’s body. She needed to try and retain her strength if she wanted to escape his clutches. And of course she wanted to.

  She tensed. Did he just hiss? She squeezed her eyes shut and tore them open once more, hoping the strange fog of—of need?—had gone. Concentrate. Taut muscles rippled against her back as he guided the horse skilfully between the rock-strewn hills. Not on that, Alana! She blew out a heavy breath. She needed to think of anything other than the sensation of a powerful male body flattened against her.

  Well, she had taken a hit to the head. And it had been a while since she’d spent time in the company of any man other than her kinsmen. None were as handsome as Morgann to be sure.

  Ach, handsome as he was, he was still abducting her.

  She stole a peek over her shoulder. Of course, he’d always been attractive but she had never envisaged him turning into this… this beast of a man. Had the years changed everything? He�
�d certainly lost his playful countenance she remembered from their time together. Was it just hidden or gone? His dark eyes now had a haunted look to them. But what did she expect after what her father had done to him? She still regretted not being able to speak with him afterwards. Still regretted not getting the chance to tell him that she believed in him.

  The heavy boom of thunder grew closer, echoing across the valley and Alana shrank back into Morgann’s hold.

  “Ach, we must stop,” Morgann muttered in her ear, making her jolt as his breath whispered over her. “The ground is soaked. I risk hurting Caraid.”

  Alana sniffed. Wonderful. He cared more for the horse’s welfare than hers. Still, she’d not complain. Mayhap she could at least talk him out of taking her to his keep. Or just escape. Morgann did seem very determined and that brooding look in his eyes made her stomach twist in apprehension.

  They approached a jutting rock at the base of a mountain and he directed Caraid over and slid from the saddle. Alana prepared to jump down but before she made a move his large hands were upon her, gliding her down his body. A rush of blood pounded through her head and their gazes connected for the merest moment. As slight as it was, the instant made her stomach flutter and she suspected those eyes would haunt her dreams for many nights.

  “Rest awhile under that rock while I—”

  As Morgann turned from her to grab the mount’s reins, Alana slipped past. She hadn’t even planned the move, but now seemed as good a time as any. She made to run but something snagged her gown and she slipped on the wet ground, landing face first into the mud. She rolled and fought to come to her feet, but it was Morgann that had a hold of her skirts.

  He cursed as she wriggled and struck out at him with a foot. “Be still,” he commanded as he attempted to seize her leg.

  “Nay!” she shouted as she planted her foot in his middle and scrabbled away. “I’ll no’ let ye take me.”

  But he was swiftly upon her, this time using his full weight to pin down her legs. No matter how much she thrashed, she was no match for his brutal strength. Morgann slid up her until she was trapped completely beneath him.

  “Damn ye, Morgann,” she hissed as he pressed the breath from her with his body.

  Alana swiped at him but he curled a hand around one wrist, then the other, making her wince, and trapped them above her. Heavy breaths blew across her skin as he glared at her, nostrils flaring.

  She gulped and gave another wriggle. The strongly clenched jaw, the anger in his eyes made her stomach tighten. She didn’t know this man, she realised. The playful friend she had once known had been replaced by a dangerous warrior. One intent on capturing her.

  “Let me go,” she said feebly, biting back a whimper as her wrist throbbed. She attempted to draw her hands from his grip. “Yer hurting me.”

  The grip tightened. “Cease yer fighting, lass. Yer going nowhere.”

  “Never,” she spat. “I’ll no’ let ye use me as a pawn in yer power games.”

  “Ye think this is about power?” He laughed dryly. “Alana, I have no wish to take land or start wars. But ye must come with me. ‘Tis the only way.”

  Tired and confused, Alana relaxed against his hold. If he didn’t wish to barter her for a chance at some of her father’s land, then what did he want with her? What other reason was there for taking an enemy’s daughter? Revenge mayhap?

  “What do ye want me for then?”

  “Will ye cease fighting me if I explain?”

  “Aye.”

  The hold around her hands released as he watched her closely. But she knew better than to fight him. It didn’t mean she’d stop trying to escape. Nay, she just had to choose her moment more carefully. The warrior was obviously determined to take her.

  She made the mistake of holding his gaze as he made to climb off and her chest tightened. He paused and they stared at each other. Emotion simmered behind his gaze, the anger gone, and Alana couldn’t tell if the emotion was targeted at her or something else. All she knew was the feeling of having his strong weight on top of her, his gaze boring into her, stole all sensible thought and turned her into one quivering mass of sensations.

  Endless moments stretched on as she waited for Morgann to look away, to break the connection, but he stared brazenly on as his gaze trailed over her face. What did he see? As she gaped up at him, the irate warrior dissolved into a flesh and blood man and she recalled how much she used to adore him. When Morgann was banished from her father’s lands, she’d been heartbroken at losing her friend, but with the blazing sensation of having him flattened against her, she remembered it wasn’t just the loss of his friendship that hurt her so. She’d always silently hoped Morgann would play a bigger role in her future.

  But that didn’t change the fact he was taking her against her will and she would not go meekly, regardless of what she once felt for him. She wouldn’t put herself and her clan in danger all because they’d once been friends. If only she could ignore the sensuous pull of his lips or the darkening of his pupils as a rough finger drew a path over her cheek.

  A crack ripped across the sky and they both jolted. Pushing to standing, Morgann helped her up and grimaced as he eyed her. Aware of the mud coating her, she swiped a hand across her face as her cheeks heated. Tilting her head up, she hoped the rain would at least be useful for something and not only rinse away some of the dirt but also cool her down. The way the man made her skin blister was extremely disconcerting.

  Morgann muttered a curse, drawing her attention back to him as he raked a hand through his hair and yanked some rope from the leather pouch hanging from his saddle. As he turned back to her, rope held out, Alana shrank away.

  “Ye cannae mean to tie me up, surely?”

  “‘Tis clear ye cannae be trusted. I’ll no’ have ye escaping me again.”

  She pressed herself back as he approached her cautiously. “I thought ye were going to tell me of yer plans, not tie me up. If I’d have known ye planned that, I’d have fought harder.”

  “I dinnae doubt it. Why do ye think I agreed to tell ye?”

  Licking her lips, Alana darted her gaze around, looking for an escape. If he tied her up, all hope would be lost. “So ye dinnae plan to tell me aught?”

  “I dinnae take pleasure in this, Alana, but I’ll no’ see ye harmed.” He grabbed a wrist as she attempted to dodge his reach. “I just need ye for a while.”

  Why did those words send a flutter of excitement to her toes? She tried to run past him and tear herself from his grip but a strong arm came around her waist and held her back as he coiled the rope around one wrist.

  “Ye say ye dinnae want to hurt me, yet ye intend to tie me up like a common prisoner?”

  As he opened his mouth to argue, the mare whinnied and they both turned to see her rear.

  “Damnation!” Morgann dropped the rope and snatched at the reins but it was too late, the horse bolted. He immediately gave chase and Alana watched for a moment as he sprinted after the frightened mare.

  She stole a quick peek at the skies and uttered a thank you. Hopefully she could evade Morgann in the rocky landscape and find her way home. They hadn’t journeyed too far though she’d never travelled these lands unaccompanied and the last time she’d visited Morgann’s home was many years ago.

  And she was definitely on enemy land.

  Nerves beat in her chest but she shoved the sensation aside and fell into a run. She deliberately followed the base of the mountains, snaking in and out of the protruding rocks, some bigger than a cottage, having tumbled down the peaks long ago. If he managed to catch up with his mount quickly, then mayhap the rocks would hide her for long enough to gain some distance.

  The rain continued to fall and her plaid grew heavy and cumbersome. It provided little warmth now it was soaked so she unpinned it and let it fall from her shoulders. Aye, mayhap she risked freezing to death but she didn’t plan on being out in the wilderness for long. Soon she’d be back home by the warmth of a fire. She thrust a
hand out and used a rock to help her navigate the slippery surface of the mountain, stifling a shudder.

  Aye, just think on that, Alana. A warm fire. Heavy blankets. Some heated wine. An unbidden image of Morgann pressed on top of her, warming her in other ways burst through her thoughts. Where had that come from? She was old enough to know of the pleasure that could be shared between a man and a woman. And wise enough to realise that it would likely be extremely pleasurable sharing that with Morgann but she’d never had these sort of heated imaginings before, only simple ideas more suited to that of an inexperienced maiden.

  Alana’s foot slipped from under her and only her grip on the rock stopped her from falling into the mud again. She made her way higher up the mountain after glancing at the valley below. She saw no sign of Morgann. If he caught up with his mount, he would stick to the valley paths and with any luck wouldn’t see her so high up.

  What a fool she was for stepping outside the keep. Da had been right. Since the rift between the two clans, both families’ lands were dangerous. She just never expected Morgann to be the one to attempt such an exploit. If she was very unlucky, other Glencolum men would be prowling the lands and she may end up in even bigger trouble. None would treat her with much more care.

  She still found it hard to believe that sweet Morgann wanted to kidnap her. Glancing down at her mud-streaked gown, she grimaced. How could he treat her so? Whatever the reason, undoubtedly some kind of desperation drove him. She had seen it clearly in his eyes.

  Moving higher still, she peered over a rock and her heart bounced against her ribs. Damnation. Atop his mount, Morgann drove it furiously along the valley path. She ducked down as he scanned the land. What should she do? Continue on? Hide? Though fairly high up, it wouldn’t take much climbing to find her.

  Endeavouring to put more distance between her and her would-be captor, Alana tied her skirts into a messy knot and kicked off her leather shoes. Climbing was easier without them. The rain slowed to a trickle as she continued her ascent but the ground proved to be sodden and harder than ever to navigate.