She practically fled into the corridor, his low chuckle following her retreat. Her face still burned with embarrassment and something else she didn't want to examine too closely.
Damn the man. Damn his knowing smile and his bare chest and the way he could read her so easily and damn herself for noticing any of it when Nessa's safety hung in the balance.
CHAPTER TEN
Escape.
The first plan didn’t work, but the second would and the way to the stables was clear. No guards. No stablemaster. She didn’t care what he said about double guards, she’s doing this whether he liked it or not.
She darted across the open space, her borrowed slippers silent on stone, and slipped through the stable doors. The familiar smell of hay and horse wrapped around her, bringing unexpected comfort. That, at least, was something she knew.
The horses shifted in their stalls, soft whickers greeting her presence. She moved past them, searching for one that looked strong enough to carry her the distance to Foulis.
A black stallion caught her eye. Massive, powerful, with intelligent eyes that watched her approach.
"Easy," she whispered, reaching for his bridle. "Easy now."
Her fingers had just closed around the leather when a hand clamped over her mouth.
Panic exploded through her. She thrashed wildly, her elbow connecting with solid muscle, her feet kicking back against shins. But the grip was iron, unyielding, and she was being turned, pressed back against the stable wall with her attacker's body caging her in.
"I knew ye were nae givin’ this up."
Tòrr’s voice cut through her panic like a blade, low and rough against the night. His hand fell away from her mouth, but he didn’t step back. Instead, he planted his arms on either side of her head, caging her in. His chest brushed hers with every shallow breath, the heat of him crowding the cool air between them.
His green eyes burned in the dim light, not just with fury, but something darker, heavier. It coiled low in her stomach, as dangerous as it was undeniable.
"Let me go!" She shoved at his chest, but he didn't budge.
"Where dae ye think ye're goin', lass?" He asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"Away from here! Away from ye!" She tried to duck under his arm, but he shifted, blocking her escape. "Let me past!"
"Nae until ye answer me question." His voice was still quiet. "Where were ye goin'?"
"What daes it matter? Ye cannae keep me here by force!"
"Ye think?" He leaned closer, and she could see the anger radiating off him in waves. "Ye're in me castle, surrounded by me men, with nowhere tae run. I'd say I can keep ye anywhere I damn well please."
"Ye're a brute!" She shoved at him again, harder this time. "A tyrant, tryin’ tae trap me, just like me faither!"
His jaw clenched. "I'm naethin' like yer faither."
"Arenae ye? Trappin' me here, decidin' me entire future without carin' what I want?" Her voice rose with each word. "How are ye different?" she shouted, striking his chest with her fist.
"Stop fightin' me!” He caught her wrists as she struck at his chest the second time, her fists bouncing off muscle without making an impact.
"Never!" She twisted in his grip, but he pinned her hands between them, holding her immobile. "I'll fight ye every day fer the rest of me life if I have tae!"
"Then ye'll have a miserable existence, because I'm nae lettin' ye go! It’s nae a choice."
They were both breathing hard now, their faces inches apart, fury crackling between them like lightning before a storm. Liliane could feel the heat of his body, the strength in the hands that held her wrists captive, the barely leashed anger in every line of his frame.
"Please." The word came out broken, desperate. "Please just let me go home. I want tae go back tae me sister."
Something flickered in his eyes. "I cannae dae that."
"Then let me write tae her. Let me send word that I'm alive, that I'm still thinkin’ about her."
