The Highlander's Defiant Captive (The Lairds Most Likely 4)

"Kill ye? No, my lady, you’re mistaken. I'm no’ going to kill ye."

"Better than…the other." Although she wasn't sure she wanted to die.

The Mackinnon clicked his tongue in disdain. "Och, you’re letting your imagination run away with ye. I promise that you’re safe."

Mhairi didn't bother accusing him of lying. What was the point? She spared a thought for Flossie. This barbarian’s hairy companion was probably already ravaging her.

"Do I really have to tie your hands?" he asked, his tone incongruously gentle. "The ride will be easier for ye if I dinnae."

"I'm no’ going with ye."

"Aye, my Lady Mhairi, ye are."

"I'm no’ Mhairi, I tell ye."

"Of course ye are. Ye might be dressed fit to scrub the scullery, but that skean dubh is a noblewoman’s weapon."

Plague take him. He’d noticed. Of course he had. There was no lack of intelligence in those dark eyes. She had a horrible feeling that he was a man who didn’t miss much. "It was a gift."

"Aye, from your father."

He slid his arms from her and without thinking, she wrenched away in a blind attempt to escape.

"No, ye dinnae, lassie." He fastened one sinewy hand around her wrist and pulled her up so abruptly that she staggered. "You're no’ going anywhere except Achnasheen."

Fear and disappointment and, aye, anger throbbed inside her hard enough to make her shake. She whipped around to confront him, only to watch him tie a rope to her wrist.

"I will no’ be tethered like a hound," she snarled.

His mouth firm, he reached forward and caught her free hand. Despite her best attempts at resistance, he needed mere seconds to secure that wrist as well. "I offered ye the chance to come quietly."

"And why on God’s green earth should I do that?"

He glanced up from testing the knots. She expected to meet cold, hard killer's eyes, but the deep brown gaze seemed kind and almost regretful.

Aye, of course he’s kind, she berated herself sarcastically. He’s kidnapping you and binding you up like an animal before he carts you off to do his will. What else would he be, but kind?

"Ye have a point, lassie."

"The ropes are too tight. They're hurting," she said, although they weren't, and when she paid attention, she realized that he hadn't used rough twine to bind her, but silk.

Silk or twine. It hardly mattered. She was still caught like a bird in a net.

"No, they're no’. But nice try."

He caught her by the waist and flung her across his shoulder. For a moment, she lay winded staring at the ground, as his hand settled on her bottom. Even through layers of petticoats, that touch branded her.

She kicked him and pounded on his back. His commanding height put the ground an awfully long way away. "Put me down, ye vile dog."

&nb

sp; He shifted his grip from her bottom to her knees. "If I do, will ye walk to my horse?"

"Of course."

"Wee liar," he said without malice. "Stop wriggling, or I'll drop ye."

"And risk damaging the merchandise?" she asked nastily.