Page 17 of Highlander of Steel
Killian pushed off the table and walked back toward her, stopping a half-step away. He reached over her shoulder, noting how she flinched, her breath caught, and her eyes closed, and gave the open door a shove.
Who hurt ye?
He had received no answer last night, but it was right there in that flinch.
“Stop sayin’ that,” he said as the door swung back into the jamb with a light thud that made her flinch again.
He wished he had stepped around her and closed the door more gently, but he couldn’t change that now.
“Sayin’ what?” she gasped, gingerly cracking one eye open.
“That ye’re me captive. Me prisoner.”
Her other eye opened, a frown creasing her smooth brow. “Am I nae? Is there a different word ye prefer?”
“Aye, ‘guest.’ And guests daenae sleep in the dungeons.” Killian relaxed as her body did. “Ye’re welcome to stay here until mebraither is returned to me, in yer feather bed, with all yer comforts.”
Ailis let out a dry laugh. “Ye must have to prepare very thoroughly for a gathering here if ye steal all of yer guests from their bedchambers. It must take ye days.”
Killian was not prone to laughter, had never had the opportunity to develop the habit, but she had almostcoaxed a laugh from him.
He moved closer, drawn to the warmth of her, until barely an inch remained. He towered over her, though she wasn’t what he would have considered short, the top of her head level with his collarbone.
“Careful, lass,” he warned in a throaty voice. “I might think ye’re tryin’ to provoke me.”
She peered up at him. “Do ye nae ken the difference between humor and an insult here?”
“A talented jester can do both at once,” he replied, keenly regretting his choice of words as her face contorted with outrage.
“Ah, so I’m here for yer amusement, is that it? I‘m here to entertain ye? A jester, indeed,” she muttered, her pink cheeks turning a shade darker. “Ye’re the one jestin’ if ye think me presence here will help anythin’.”
He held her gaze, testing her mettle. “I have faith that it will.”
“Then ye daenae ken me faither or understand what ye’ve kidnapped,” she shot back. “What do ye think will happen if ye return me after me bein’ yer ‘guest’ here, hmm?”
Killian shrugged. “They’ll lock ye up, makin’ ye a captive in yer own home?”
That seemed a pretty good reason to stay at Castle MacNairn without guilt or worry.Hewould rather be the guest of an enemy, free to do as he pleased, than imprisoned in his own room, unable to get out.
Ailis’s mouth fell open for an instant, her expression blank with shock. She shook off her surprise and looked down with a quiet gulp.
“Nay matter how much ye believe I’m yer enemy,” he continued, resisting the urge to tilt her chin up, “I’ll never be like them, lass.”
Keeping her head down, her hands clenched into fists, she muttered under her breath, “Nay, ye’re worse.”
She turned to leave, her hand reaching for the door handle.
Killian should have let her go, for it had not even been a full day since her capture. She had no reason to believe anything he said.He should have let her go and given her time to realize she truly was safe here.
Instead, he closed the gap between them and pressed his palm to the door, keeping it shut while she fumbled with the handle. She stiffened as his front brushed against her back, not pinning her there—his other arm wasn’t blocking her at all—but close enough to let her know that he wasn’t done yet.
“It’s nae a good idea to be discourteous to the man ye consider as yer captor,” he said quietly, close to her ear.
To his pleasant surprise, she turned around to face him, her back pressed against the door. She lifted her dainty chin in defiance, her green eyes bright with challenge.
“Why? What worse could ye do to me?” she asked.
He frowned down at her, misunderstanding her initially.
