Page 108 of The Highlander's Virgin Widow
Keira swallowed. No one was coming to save her, that much was evident. If Hudson did plan to kill her, perhaps it would be best if she got confrontational after all. What did she have to lose?
“Ye killed Fletcher. Ye tried to kill Evander just so ye could have me, and ye still think the man is yer competition?”
Hudson narrowed his eyes at her.
“Ye have the gall to compare yerself to Evander in the first place?” She could see the shock on his face as the words spewed out of her mouth like venom. “Ye were never him, Hudson. And ye will never be him.”
Hudson staggered backward, his mouth dropping open.
Keira felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and she tried hard to keep the fear from her voice. “Ye’re nae even half the man Evander is.”
That was it. That was the nail in the coffin.
The shock on Hudson’s face transformed almost immediately into insatiable anger. He raised his palm, ready to strike her.
“Step back,” Evander’s voice suddenly barked behind them, cold and calm. Way too calm for something else to not be going on beneath his calm demeanor.
A wave of relief washed over Keira, weakening her knees.
Hudson turned around slowly to face Evander.
“It would be in yer best interest if ye dinnae make me repeat meself,” Evander warned, his voice still low.Dangerouslylow.
“Oh, would it now?” Hudson drawled, still standing in front of Keira, his back turned to her.
He was still blocking her path, and she did nothing but stare at the window, her heart racing and her lips moving in a silent prayer.
“Hudson?” Evander called.
It didn’t sound like a question at all, but rather a warning. An incrediblygravewarning.
“Would it also be in me best interest if I do this?” Hudson spun around and pushed Keira against the edge of the window.
She crashed into the wall and fell hard on the floor.
Evander snapped.
He crossed the room in three long strides and slammed hard into Hudson like lightning. They both crashed into the wall. Hudson’s head snapped back against the hard stone wall, but he managed to shove Evander off.
Both men staggered backward, glaring at each other.
Hudson drew a dagger from his belt, his face contorted in unadulterated rage.
Evander didn’t flinch. “Go ahead, ye bastard. I dare ye.”
Hudson swung his dirk, aiming for Evander’s ribs, but Evander jumped back. The blade sliced through his shirt and grazed his skin. He grabbed Hudson’s wrist at that moment and twisted it as hard as he could.
Hudson cried out, and the dagger fell from his grip.
Evander didn’t stop there. He balled his free hand into a fist and slammed it into Hudson’s face. Once. Twice. Until blood spurted from his nose.
Hudson swung back after the second blow, punching him square in the gut. The air whooshed out of Evander’s lungs, and he doubled over. Hudson rose to his feet in the blink of an eye and slammed his knee against Evander’s jaw.
“Ye still think ye have a chance with her, do ye nae?” he growled, slamming his fist into Evander’s face.
Evander reeled back. His head snapped up, and pain flashed white behind his eyes, but he pushed through it. He grabbed Hudson’s shirt and flung him away, then shoved him face-first right against the edge of the bed frame.
The wood cracked, and Hudson screamed. Evander hauled him back and threw him across the room. Hudson hit the floor hard and rolled onto his back. Blood trickled down from his lips as he coughed and staggered to his feet.
