But it was her eyes, green as spring moss, that caught him most, eyes that gave away her every thought whether she willed it or not. Anger blazed there now, but there was something else too, something she likely hadn't noticed herself.
Her hair was loose from their earlier chase, strands tumbling around her shoulders in a wild, untamed manner that suited her far too well. The temptation to thread his fingers through it struck him, but he kept his hands to himself for the moment.
"Follow me inside," he said.
"I'd rather nae. I daenae agree to be taken to yer master, if that's what ye are thinkin'," she said.
With one swift motion, he lifted her from the ground as if she weighed no more than a child. Her surprised gasp amused him, and without pause, he slung her over his shoulder.
"Put me down this instant!" Her voice rang with indignation, her small fists pressing against his back.
He smirked, and his tone was dry as he replied. "I daenae take orders, lass. Least of all from someone who's done naught but cause trouble since I took her."
"I've done nothin' but try to get away from a brute who stole me from me home!" she shot back, twisting in his hold.
"Aye, and ye've failed," he said, the faintest hint of a smirk in his voice. "Best get used to it."
She wriggled again, her hands pushing at his back as if she thought sheer stubbornness might free her. The shift of her body made his jaw tighten, but for reasons she clearly didn't realize.
"If ye keep movin' like that," he growled low, "ye'll be stirrin' more than yer own temper."
Her body went rigid instantly. "Ye're a shameless beast," she muttered.
"Aye," he agreed easily, his voice rumbling in satisfaction. "And ye'd do well to remember that."
He carried her up the wide stone steps, the sound of his boots echoing in the enclosed corridor beyond the castle doors. Servants moved out of their path without a word, though Caiden noticed more than one glance lingering on the lass slung over his shoulder. He ignored them all, his focus on the warm, tense weight of her against him.
They reached the upper floor, where the air grew warmer from the heat of the hearths. At last, he pushed open the heavy oak door to his chambers, the hinges groaning in protest.
Inside, the room stretched wide, with thick woven tapestries along the walls depicting battles and hunts of old. A great fire burned in the stone hearth, the scent of pine and peat smoke curling through the air.
The bed dominated one wall, its carved posts rising high and draped with dark green velvet that matched the laird's crest embroidered in gold above the headboard. A polished oak table sat near the window, set with a silver flagon and two cups, the light from the sea-glass windows catching on the metal and making it gleam. Furs lay scattered across the floor, softening the cold of the stone. Every detail spoke of wealth and power, but none of it seemed ostentatious, it was the room of a man who valued both comfort and dominance.
Setting her back on her feet, Caiden held her there a moment longer than necessary, his hands firm at her waist.
"There now," he said, his voice still low but edged with something sharper. "On yer feet, lass. And if ye've any sense, ye'll stop tryin' to run before I find a way to make ye stay that ye'll nae like."
Her chin lifted, her eyes flashing despite her flushed cheeks. "Ye'll nae frighten me into obedience."
Caiden's smirk deepened. "We'll see about that."
He leaned against the edge of the table, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he studied her.
"Well then, lass, I think it's time ye tell me what ye ken."
Her chin lifted defiantly, though her hands were clenched at her sides. "I'll tell ye once again, I've nay idea why ye took me."
"Aye, ye do," he said, his voice a low growl, as if her denial were nothing more than an irritating game. "Ye're complicit in the theft of me favorite paintin'."
Her face drained of color, her lips parting slightly in shock. "That's a filthy lie. I've done nay such thing."
Caiden's gaze hardened, though a flicker of satisfaction crossed his face at her reaction. "Ye were spotted exactly where me men were told the thief was hidin'. Daenae insult me by claimin' that's a coincidence. Unless ye start talkin', I'll be takin' more… persuasive measures."
"Aye, I was there to meet someone to buy a paintin'," she said quickly, her words tumbling out. "That's all! I was told it was by Byrne, from someone's private collection. I only kent where to meet them, nothin' else. I was nae there to steal it."
He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. "And ye expect me to swallow that without question?"
"It's the truth, whether ye believe it or nae," she shot back, her voice trembling slightly but refusing to lose its edge.
