She gave up that hope when she saw the giant’s scowl. He ceased pacing along the road and now came toward her, his look both furious and…hurt. She jumped when he put his fingers to his mouth and whistled sharply. When he stomped up to her, she braced herself but held still. The accusation in his eyes deepened when he lifted her hand and placed the earbobs in her open palm. He then whistled twice more before shaking his boulder-sized head at her and walking away.
Kenna couldn’t swallow around the lump in her throat. The need to flee had her turning back to the trees, no longer caring for the consequences. Before she could take a step, however, riders broke out of the woods and converged on her, their thunderous hooves terrifying. After meeting glare after glare, she avoided their gazes. No doubt they were anxious to see her punished for exhausting them further. Even the horses snorted at her.
When all heads turned to look behind her, she spun around to see their leader moving his horse through the throng. The steeds parted for him with seemingly no instruction from their riders. Perhaps the horses were also impressed with his size, she thought, as he dwarfed all but one man that he passed.
Kenna did not look him in the eye, refusing to tip her head back far enough. Instead, she studied the knee closest to her, the sculpted muscles of his thigh. Then her gaze dropped to the safer study of his boot. The spur had dried blood on it.
The giant, meantime, brought her horse forward then skulked off.
“Get lost?” the commander asked, in a voice dripping with menace.
For the first time, Kenna took a step back, then dared to taunt, “Is that a question or a command, Laird and Master? I am happy to oblige…”
There was no mistaking the look in his eye. She was going to die a slow and painful death.
CHAPTER TEN
Sundown…
Kenna should never have provoked him in front of his men. She had forgotten how important Uncle Angus’s pride had been to him, and the scowl of her laird and master told her he was no different. She now hoped he would not attempt to beat her, for even though she felt horrible for insulting the giant, she would fight to the death anyone who dared raise a hand to her again. Man or priest.
“Come here,” he growled, somehow appearing fiercer without his armor, with the linen gaping open below his throat. Shadows and smooth bulges hinted at the danger hidden just beneath.
How much closer did “here” mean? She was only a forearm away from him now. The stares of the other men made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle, but she ignored them. And thinking to smooth out that scowl, she pretended to grovel. “Yes, Laird and Master.” Then smiling, she stepped closer.
He reached down as if to speak privately to her then grabbed her arm with one hand and the back of her gown with the other. He hauled her across his muscular thighs. Before she could voice her outrage, her buttocks stung with the sharp bite of the flat ofhis hand. His horse bolted as if it, too, had felt the blow. And a heartbeat later she and her captor flew down the road in a mass of flailing limbs, the low thunder of galloping hooves following close behind.
After what seemed a duration, the stinging in her backside lessened to an angry throb and Kenna realized her ribs were in danger of breaking. She may as well have been bouncing on a pair of tree trunks as two thighs, they were that hard. One pounded across her hips and the other knocked the air from her lungs, over and over again.
And Satan’s natural sons were laughing!
So much for fighting to the death. By the time they slowed, she would be a boneless doll. Her only hope was to get this aggravating man’s attention, and the only part of him available to her was his leg, just above his boot, and it was far too firm to risk her teeth on.
So she pinched. Hard.
Tearloch feltthe clamp of what he thought was the woman’s teeth on the side of his knee, but he could not kick her away for fear of damaging her face. He tried to wrench the leg free but only succeeded in slowing his horse and causing the confused beast to rear. He dropped the leads, grabbed the saddle with one hand and her backside with the other, but the reckless fool bucked against him and slid to the ground.
“Idiot,” she spat as she stalked off in the correct direction, wrapping her arms around her body as if cold. “Not man enough to beat me with his hands, he has to use a horse!”
Tearloch’s rage erupted, settling like a hot flag on his face. He moved to dismount and oblige her, but the others were smilingand shaking their heads as they turned their horse toward home yet again. Had they not noticed? She could have been killed!
He looked back at the woman and noticed how she clutched her ribs. Instantly he turned his disgust on himself. He certainly hadn’t intended to damage the bloody Princess of Scotland.
But he also had no intention of slowing their progress. They wouldn’t be able to see the road in half an hour. And the closer they got to Malcolm, the better!
He scooped up the reins to her own horse and led it close enough to toss the leads at her feet. She looked surprised and then suddenly too pleased as she turned her back on him to climb into the saddle.
Once she was mounted, he reached over and covered her hand tightly to get her attention. She jumped at his touch. He looked into her eyes and he inhaled slowly. She did the same. Her petite nostrils flickered, as did the sunset mirrored in her eyes, and alarms sounded throughout his body. A weak voice inside his head warned, “Hold fast! Hold fast!”
Tearloch waited for the heaviness that rendered his tongue immovable, but it didn’t come. Instead of his mind seizing, his thoughts ran smoothly to his lips. He could easily have told her how her own mouth called out to his, how his hands ached to lift her back to him.
Words he had never conjured before now.
He looked at his hand covering hers. That magical touch could ruin him if he wasn’t careful.
Instead of putting voice to those thoughts, he said, “If ye fail to keep pace, or if ye run again, I will find a new way to horrify ye, Milady.” And with that, he released her hand, turned, and galloped away.
She wouldn’t dare disobey me now.
