Page 29 of When a Highlander Loses His Heart
“Release me!” she demanded. “Ye dunnae have the right to keep me hostage and take me to yer king.”
Graham cocked an eyebrow, refusing to feel pity for the contained sob throbbing in her voice, or the blue of her lips, or chattering of her teeth. “King David is yer king, too, or did ye forget? Or perchance ye wish to see him toppled as your father does,” Graham accused.
“Nay!” she denied. “I simply wish to have a say in who I marry!” Anger reverberated in her voice. “I was raised away from the rest of the world, then dragged back into it to be used! By my father.” Her voice shook with raw hurt, and his heart twisted, but he shoved the pity back. “By you!” She surprised him by poking him hard in the chest. He could not keep his admiration totally at bay. The lass had undeniable courage to face him so. “And by a king who I dunnae ken is a good king or nae! I’ll make my own choices! I’ll decide my future!”
Her words struck like a dagger to his heart. It was so similar to how he had felt when it seemed his place in his clan was out of his control, and was dictated first by his mother, who had made him feel worthless, and then unknowingly by his brothers, who had once made him feel pathetic by constantly trying to protect him. He understood the burning need to decide one’s own fate, and he had learned through great pain and strife that he was in control of his place in this world and how he felt, but he was a man. It was different.
“Ye are a woman,” he stated, refusing to let her see that he understood. It would not do any good to encourage her feelings. “Yer lot in life is to do as ye’re bid by yer family. Unless,” he quickly added, “they be as evil as yers. Then ye must do as yer king wishes. He is a good king.”
“And can ye vow he will marry me to a good man?” she demanded, her chest heaving.
He stilled. He could not vow it. He did not know who the king would pick and whether the man would be kind and honorable. “I will champion yer cause,” he said. “I will do all in my power to assure ye are married to a man who will be kind.”
“What power do ye have over the king’s wishes?” she demanded in a growl.
“I’ve enough,” he said simply, praying it was true. Surely, the king would not go against Graham’s brother Iain, one of the most powerful lairds in the Highlands and someone David well knew would stand by Graham.
“That is nae good enough for me,” she muttered. “Now let me go, or I’ll be forced to hurt ye.”
“Hurt me?” he scoffed.
“Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall,”she snapped.
“Ye dare to quoteThe Vulgate, God’s book, to me?” he growled, his temper rising.
“I do dare to quote God’s book to ye!” she snapped. “And ye need to heed it. Now unhand me!”
“Nay!” he boomed and moved to slide his hand around her waist to sling her over his shoulder. But a flash of steel caught his eyes and so surprised him that he hesitated for a fraction of a breath.
That small pause was a grave mistake.
She brought the dagger, which he had so foolishly handed back to her, between them. “Let me go,” she said in a low voice, “or I will be forced to stab ye.”
“Ye dunnae have the mettle,” he replied, keeping a steady eye on her badly shaking hand.
“I will find it,” she insisted, inhaling a deep breath that made her chest rise and her nipples strain even harder against her still-clinging gown.
“Ye best do it, then, because this will be the only chance ye get, and I will nae ever let ye go.”
A cry ripped from her, and he was sure she was going to lower the dagger, but she surprised him by plunging it forward. He released her arm to twist away from her weapon. The blade skimmed his shoulder, unfortunately where his injury was, and though it did not pierce deep into his shoulder, it caught the edge of the healing wound and ripped it open. As hot pain seared into him, he saw her eyes widen in horror before she turned and started to run.
His own shock yielded quickly to fury that nearly choked him. With a burst he was upon her, knocking her to the ground, yet catching her body as they fell as one to the cold, hard dirt. He rolled her over, wishing to see her expression as he unleashed his anger, but the tears that streaked her cheeks and the fear that marked her beautiful face stole his words.
At once he became acutely aware of the soft, utterly feminine woman pressed against the full length of his hard, yearning body. The scent of heather surrounded him, and her breath, coming in little gasps, washed over him sweetly.
“I should beat ye,” he finally managed over the desire battering his very soul.
“Ye best do it, then,” she muttered wretchedly, repeating the words he’d said to her but moments ago. “For I vow this will be the only chanceyeever get.”
Compassion and understanding for this prideful, hurt woman filled him, and all his intentions to ignore his admiration and pity for her fled. He reached up and brushed his fingers over her hot tears. Her gasping breaths stopped, and she stilled. “What are ye doing?” she whispered, eyes wide.
He wanted to taste those lips. He wanted to claim her mouth and bring her pleasure. “I hardly ken,” he replied, finding it hard to concentrate. His need for her was almost uncontrollable.
One kiss was all he would ever take, he promised himself, before lowering his mouth to hers and capturing her lips with the intensity that had built in him to a near pulsing, living thing. He expected her to protest, and the minute she did, he intended to release her, but when he touched his tongue to the crease of her lips and she parted them with a mewling sigh, he unleashed his hunger fully and delved into her welcoming heat.
Heaven—that’s what she was. And as he offered one long kiss after another, the thought resurfaced that it was foolhardy indeed to tempt himself with a woman his family hated and his king intended to manipulate.
Chapter Ten
