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

"That, too."

After today, she knew the laird wanted her for her own sake, but this new softness she felt toward him didn't blind her to his political purposes. The question was whether his political purposes were now hers. And how did her personal feelings fit in with his wider agenda?

At the dance’s end, their hands parted. She curtsied and he performed another bow, eyes brilliant as they surveyed her. Other men had looked at her with desire. As more of that insidious heat washed through her, she realized with a shock that for the first time she looked back with interest of her own.

When he took her arm and led her back to the high table, she stumbled. She couldn't want the Mackinnon. He was a brute and a beast, and she hated him.

Except the emotion rushing through her blood didn't feel like hatred. It felt like joy.

The musicians played the introduction to a minuet and a couple of men-at-arms brought partners to the floor.

Dancing with the Mackinnon was dangerous to Mhairi’s resolution, but she couldn't help but feel disappointed when they sat down. She was about to suggest they join the line when the Mackinnon spoke to her cousin. "Would ye like to partner Mistress Drummond, John?"

Both Drummonds regarded him in disbelief. Mhairi couldn't credit that he'd made the offer. After all, he'd refused to let her speak to her kinsman for fear she'd pass on secrets about the castle and private messages for her father.

John recovered his wits more quickly than she did. Under the Mackinnon’s calm gaze, he came around to kiss her cheek and take her hand.

Her cousin led her into the line, but she noticed he left a sizeable gap between them and the next couple. Oh, no, this didn’t bode well. She braced for a scolding. He’d object to her apparent ease with the enemy. She wasn't mistaken.

"Mhairi, I could hardly believe it when ye smiled on yon Mackinnon bastard as if you like him."

"I do like him," she said, then stumbled again as she realized just what she admitted.

Heaven help her, what was wrong with her? Next she'd be lining up to marry the scoundrel.

John's grip tightened. "He's set some witchcraft to ye."

She shook her head. "No. But I can see the value of peace in the glens. I thought ye could, too. John, the Mackinnon's intentions are good. If ye can get my father to agree to a truce, it would benefit everyone."

His lips thinned, as he swayed closer in the movement of the dance. "No’ if it means my cousin marrying a damned filthy Mackinnon."

They both kept their voices low, but Mhairi caught a few curious glances leveled at them. She glanced up at the high table, expecting the Mackinnon to be watching her, but he was talking to Duff who had just returned from taking Brigid home.

More amazement struck her as she realized he trusted her with her cousin.

"I havenae agreed to marry him," she snapped under her breath.

John’s grip on her hand firmed. "You're no’ far off agreeing, if what I see tonight is any indication. Did a good swiving addle your wits?"

She stopped dancing and glared at her cousin. "He hasnae bedded me."

"I heard some unlikely story."

"Well, it’s true. He's treated me with honor and consideration." She paused. "And I do so appreciate ye asking after my welfare. Clearly my fate after my abduction has left ye sore troubled."

He had the grace to look uncomfortable. He glanced around and saw that everyone was staring at them. "Let's keep dancing."

"I think I'd rather sit down."

Her cousin scowled. "And go back to your paramour?"

She ignored that. John didn't really believe she'd shared the Mackinnon's bed. He was just angry with her because she

wasn’t acting like a proper Drummond. She made her feet move to the music but there was none of the lightness she’d felt when she danced with Black Callum.

"I'll pay your ransom and take ye home, and God willing you'll start to remember where your loyalty lies."

"John, the Mackinnon doesnae want my father's money. I told ye what he wants."