The Lover

“You suffer from the most colossal case of presumption I have ever witnessed! You are not the only man in existence. If I wish to take a lover, I will! If I wish a dozen lovers, I will do so! Do you ken me?”

It was an idle threat, but she was too incensed for circumspection. She met his fierce gaze measure for measure.

His eyes hard with fury, he closed his fingers painfully on her arms.

“Don’t you dare think to raise a hand to me!” she warned.

His jaw set rigidly, Niall visibly gritted his teeth. “I have never touched a lass in anger before, but I vow in this instance I could make an exception.”

“’Tis no more than I would expect from a dissolute libertine!”

“Do you ken how to swim?” he demanded suddenly.

“What?”

“Can you swim?”

“No! Why—”

She was abruptly silenced as Niall bent and scooped her up in his arms. Sabrina gasped and clutched his neck as he carried her to the edge of the loch.

Rab growled once, but a sharp command from Niall made him cease. With a whine of confusion, the huge animal dropped to his belly, resting his head on his paws. It infuriated Sabrina to realize she could not even look to her dog for protection.

To her startlement, though, Niall waded directly into the water.

“Mayhap this will cool your lusts!” he declared, before letting her drop with a splash.

The loch was only waist-deep there, but Sabrina gasped as the icy water closed over her head. She flailed in panic for an instant, then came up choking and coughing and sputtering with fury.

“You—w-wretched—b-beast! You—loutish—j-jackanapes!” Half blinded by chilling streams of water, she struggled to her feet, cursing Niall with words she wasn’t even aware she knew. On the rocky shore, Rab leapt wildly, punctuating her tirade with excited barks.

“Take care, lass,” Niall warned, turning to retreat to dry land. “You’ll make me think a dousing wasn’t discipline enough.”

“Damn your eyes…!”

He had thrown her in the loch, and now he had the gall to taunt her! His arrogance made her blood boil.

Shoving her wet hair from her eyes, Sabrina stalked after him—or rather, she tried to stalk after him. Regrettably she had great difficulty following him with her sodden cloak and skirts weighing her down. “Come back here, you cowardly brute!”

Niall turned abruptly, one black eyebrow slashing upward in mockery. “Brute?”

“Aye, brute!” She reached the shore just then, but stumbled over the hem of her cloak. In frustration, Sabrina tore off the water-logged garment and threw it to the ground.

To her dismay, she realized her muslin scarf had come free, while her breasts had slipped from the confining imprisonment of her boned bodice. All that covered her bosom was a thin, wet chemise.

Niall’s gaze skimmed her pale curves, locking on her exposed breasts, where the water-taunted nipples strained darkly against the dampened cloth. A mocking smile curved his lips. “You’ll not appease me with feminine lures, sweet. Though I admit the notion is tempting. You make an appealing sight, your face flushed with temper, your eyes flashing fire…”

A wild tirade of verbal abuse danced behind Sabrina’s clenched teeth. She had always prided herself on her self-control, but now she marveled at the strength of the rage that shook her as she sloshed toward him.

He stood his ground, his hands on his narrow hips. “’Tis such a fascinating change, from prim lady to spitting tiger—albeit a soggy one—”

She hit him. Drawing back her arm wildly, Sabrina swung with all her might. Her fist struck the hard slab of his chest before Niall caught her wrist in a fierce grip.

Danger jumped and pulsed around him like lightning, his blue eyes brilliant with fire.

“Vixen,” he breathed as he pulled her brutally against his body. “Apparently a lesson in wifely obedience is in order.”

“Obedience!” Sabrina fairly hissed the word. “I shall never obey you…you arrogant knave!”