Not Half Plaid (Bad in Plaid 2)

And in that moment, she knew she had to tell Brodie that. Tell him she was proud of him, and proud to love him.

Once she got out of this mess.

“The King would no’ be pleased to learn one of his men had to resort to violence to kiss a woman.” She was feeling reckless and desperate, not at all the way she usually felt in unknown situations, but she also knew it was her only option. “Brodie and Kenneth McClure ken the King, and they’d never serve a man who condoned yer—”

The slap came from her left and surprised her completely. The shock of it—and the pain in her jaw—silenced her.

Long enough for Gordon’s hand—the hand which had just inflicted such pain—to land on her breast and squeeze. “A whore like ye doesnae have the right to pass judgement on me,” he spat. “Yer family obviously doesnae care what ye do with yerself. Ye’re fair game, so ye can do me as well as that half-breed.”

Suddenly, he chuckled, and the sound was chilling.

Do him?

Fen swallowed, trying not to whimper at the pain of his grip, and knew her time was up.

She had to escape his hold, but how? He held her immobile and—

Nay. Her legs. Her legs were still free.

And she was wearing her boots for a change.

As his hold on her breast tightened, Fen swung her leg back for as much leverage as possible, then kicked him square in the knee with the toe of her boot.

With a roar of pain, Gordon stumbled back, releasing her breast, but continuing to hold tightly to her hair, causing her to fall to her knees. The sharp pain as her hair was yanked hard wrenched a hiss from her clenched teeth.

But her knee hit an embedded plank of wood—which hurt even more—and her questing fingers determined it to be the border around the squash beds. And right beside the little border…

She snatched up the phallic squash and hurled it awkwardly at Gordon. In the dim light, she could see it bounce off his arm and do little damage, so she took a moment to aim the next one.

This time the squash bounced off his nose with a satisfying thunk, and when he dropped his hold on her hair, Fen decided squash would hereafter be her favorite food.

She scrambled to her feet and stumbled backwards.

“Ye bitch,” Gordon roared, coming at her with his hands raised and blood dripping from his nose.

Fen did the only thing left to her; she screamed as loudly as she could, as she turned to run.

She made it no more than three steps before she ran headlong into a wall of muscle. And when his hand came up to steady her, she felt her body nearly sink to the ground in relief.

Because she recognized these hands, this hold.

“Fenella?” Brodie growled. He tipped her face back, his gaze caressing the bruise she could already feel forming on her cheek from Gordon’s blow.

“Gordon,” she whimpered, embarrassingly weak-kneed now she knew she was safe. “He…hurt me…”

And she saw the moment he understood. In fact, she saw everything.

For the first time, Brodie’s face showed exactly what he was thinking, a scowl of unmatchable rage.

He pulled her behind him, then roared his wrath as he hurled himself at Gordon.