“Only one?” Kate quirked her mouth at his attempt to intimidate her. Why, this brute was even more arrogant than her uncle!
“Aye.”
“Are you always so uncompromising?”
He inclined his head, giving her his full attention. Kate defied the urge to pull back at the virility in his bold gaze, the vivid beauty of flames fired with the power of some fervent purpose within. She met his strength of will head on—until his eyes swept over her face, lingering on her mouth and heating her cheeks.
“Verra well.” He returned his gaze to hers. “To show ye that I’m agreeable, I’ll allow ye to choose which query ye want me to answer.”
Kate’s brows flew up at his haughty self-importance. “Two queries,” she parried, challenging his amiability.
He conceded with a slight nod.
“Why are you bringing me to Skye?”
“Because there are over fifty dead bodies loiterin’ on yer doorstep in Glen Orchy.”
“Och.” She blinked. “I see.” She twisted her body forward and leaned back against his chest with a heavy sigh of relief. She had forgotten about the bloody battle on her front lawn. She certainly did not want to return to that alone. She would have to bury the bodies, unless her uncle returned to retrieve his men, which she could not fathom him doing. And there were the McColls to consider. They would seek revenge once they discovered what had become of their kin. “I confess, you have a point. It would not be wise to return home just yet.” She turned toward him again and gave him a measured look. “I thought you were abducting me.” His lips curled into a smile she suspected he’d used a hundred times before to frighten a horde of enemies. Kate’s mouth tightened; she refused to yield so easily. “You are a MacGregor, after all.” She shrugged her shoulders and her expression relaxed. “But you did save me, and I don’t want you to think that I—”
“I dinna trouble myself with thinkin’ of ye at all.”
His curt insult grated on her last nerve. “Of course.” She shifted her position again and brought her legs down with resounding thumps on his injured thigh. His body went rigid, but he did not move her.
“What do you intend to do with me?”
“Slicin’ off yer head would be a good beginnin’,” he ground out through clenched teeth.
“Och, but then who would you practice your frightful scowls on?”
Her bravery to mock him right to his face fired his blood. “Yer kin.”
Oh, what Kate wouldn’t have done for her sword at that moment. “Alas, then, you would frighten no one.” To prove her point, she didn’t turn away when his eyes swept over her face. She should have, though, because the smile that graced his lips made her heart quicken.
“What are your plans for me?” she asked again, turning away.
“I have no’ decided that yet.”
Kate prayed she hadn’t heard him right. He had not decided yet? What did that mean? Was he going to return her to her brother, safe and sound? Or was he going to kill her?
“Well, I’d rather go home than to Skye,” she informed him, deciding that he was simply trying to frighten her again. “So I’ve made your decision for you.”
Dear God, how could she find a MacGregor so dangerously appealing? Damn her, but the indulgent slant of his mouth made her knees go soft.
“Thank ye. That is exactly what I will do.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“Return ye home to yer brother.”
“To Inverary?”
“That is where he lives.”
She lowered her gaze lest he see the trepidation in her eyes. She didn’t want to live with her uncle. Oh, why had Robert left Glen Orchy?
The chieftain leaned forward, and his breath caressed her temple when he spoke. “Ye have made it clear that ye dinna care fer yer uncle. Why?”
She raised her eyes to his, unable to find the sudden concern in his voice any less noble than that of the most gallant knight. She shook her head at herself. Was she daft? This was no knight, but a savage outlaw. Kin to the beast who murdered her father. She could be thrown into the tower for finding him anything but vile. But he had rushed headlong into a melee of swinging swords and saved her from certain death. He had not abducted her. He had carried her all the way to the Stewarts’ homestead to remove her arrow, when he could have easily left her to tend to herself. He had held her and comforted her when the pain of her wound was unbearable. And most important, he meant to deliver her to the safety of her brother. Of course, she had not forgotten how he’d let her almost fall off his horse when she had demanded he release her. Or the way he had clamped his strong hand over her mouth at the Stewarts’. He was an overbearing brute, to be certain, but he had not harmed her.
