Maia's mind raced.This was insane. A strange man had broken into her locked chambers, was threatening to abduct her, and allshe could think about was the way his voice wrapped around her like silk and honey.
I should be screamin'.
The guards were justoutside her door. If she cried out, they'd come running.
But would that really be better? Goingback to her uncle's tender mercies, to the endless days of isolation and humiliation?
When opportunity comes knockin',even if it comes in a way ye daenae expect, daenae be afraid to take hold of it.
Mollie's wordsfrom earlier echoed in her mind, and Maia felt something shift inside her chest.
This was madness.But perhaps madness was exactly what she needed.
"He willnae care,"she blurted out, scrambling to sit up. The blankets pooled around her waist, and she was suddenly, mortifyingly aware that she was wearing only her thin cotton shift. "Me uncle, I mean. He willnae care that ye've taken me. Ye're wastin' yer time if ye think he cares."
The man'slaugh was low and dark, cutting off her protest. "Och, they always say that. 'He doesnae care about me, let me go, this willnae work'. " He leaned closer, so close she could see the flecks of amber in his dark eyes. "But I ken better, lass. Ye're theonly bairn of the previous Laird MacMahon. Yer uncle will care plenty."
"Nay, ye daenae understand."Maia started, but he was already moving.
Before she could explainthat she was less a lady and more a prisoner, the man bent and scooped her up as if she weighed nothing at all. Maia gasped as she was lifted into the air, one of his arms beneath her knees and the other supporting her back.
He was carryingher bridal style.
Heat floodedher cheeks even as her hands instinctively grabbed his shoulders for balance. She could feel the solid muscle beneath the leather of his jerkin, the warmth of his body seeping through the thin fabric of her shift. His chest was like a wall of stone against her side, and when she dared glance up at his face, she found his jaw clenched tight, a muscle ticking beneath his beard.
"Put me down,"she whispered, though her grip on his shoulders didn't loosen.
"No time for talkin'."He strode toward the window with sure, silent steps. "Yer guards will be makin' their rounds soon, and I'd rather nae have to kill anyone tonight if I can help it."
The casual mentionof killing would have terrified her if Maia had not become distracted by the window, or rather, by what was missing from it.
"The bars,"she breathed, her eyes going wide. The iron bars that had crisscrossed her window for six years were gone, leaving only deep holes where they'd been wrenched free. Cool night air poured through the opening, carrying the scent of pine and heather and… freedom. "How did ye remove them?"
"Easy enough ifye ken what ye're doing." The man adjusted his grip on her, settling her more securely against his chest as he approached the window. "If yer Laird wanted to keep someone like me out, he should have done a better job."
The irony hitMaia like a hard punch to the gut. The bars hadn't been placed there to keep people out. They were intended to keep her in, to prevent exactly what she'd tried to do four years ago when desperation had driven her to fashion a rope from torn sheets and attempt an escape.
She'd failed then.Been caught, punished, locked away even more securely.
But now someonehad torn those bars away like they were nothing more than twigs, and the night air beckoned with promises of everything she'd been denied for years.
As the manstepped closer to the window, as fresh air kissed her face for the first time in what felt like forever, Maia swallowed those words back down.
What good wouldthe truth do?
He clearly believedher uncle valued her, believed this kidnapping would accomplish whatever revenge he sought.
Let him believe it.Let him carry me away from this tower, from this castle, from the uncle who'd turned me into a ghost. How much worse could it become?
She could worryabout correcting his assumptions later.
So instead of speaking,Maia simply tightened her grip on his shoulders and said nothing at all as he prepared to climb through the window.
"Hold tight,"the man commanded, and before Maia could ask what he meant, he was climbing onto the window ledge.
Her stomach droppedas she realized what he intended. "Wait, we're three stories up! Ye cannae possibly jump down."
"I toldye to hold tight, lass." His arm tightened around her, pulling her so close she could feel his heartbeat—steady and sure, unlike her own rabbiting pulse. Then he glanced down at her, and their eyes held.
