But it was his striking blue eyes that held her. Ice blue. Like a frozen loch in the darkest winter. Their color made more intense against the deep tan of his golden skin. Yet when he looked at her, it was not a chill she felt, but warmth that started at her neck and spread all the way down to her toes. He seemed to see right through her with a hawklike intensity that stole her breath and sent her pulse racing.
He made her feel nervous…unsettled…vulnerable. Unfamiliar feelings that increased her wariness. With one last hesitant look at the warrior, Meg returned to attending to her mother.
The rain had stopped. The battle was over.
When the cowards turned to run, Alex motioned two of his men to follow to make sure they didn’t return. The others he instructed to tend to the wounds of the injured and dispose of the bodies as best they could. But it wasn’t until he’d gotten an initial report from Patrick that Alex knew he had a problem.
Mackinnons. Damn.Powerful bad luck to have come to the aid of a neighboring clan from Skye. At least no one appeared to have recognized him. But he knew the longer he lingered, the more chance there was for questions to form. Despite the beard, it wouldn’t be long before someone noted his uncanny resemblance to the infamous Chief of MacLeod. His brother cut a wide path around these parts.
They should leave.
His gaze slid back to the lass. She was ministering to the woman he’d initially thought dead but appeared to be slowly regaining consciousness. In between soothing the woman with soft words, the lass set her men about making order out of chaos with the smooth efficiency of a general. Horses were fed and watered, the cart that was carrying their trunks was righted, and arrangements were made for returning the injured and killed to Dunakin.
For one so young—she couldn’t be much past twenty years—she appeared to be handling the aftermath of the attack admirably.
More than admirably, actually. Her composure under the circumstances was remarkable. From the first moment he’d seen her, she’d impressed him with her courage. Riding in, he’d caught the very end of her attempt to stab the man who was attacking her. For such a wee thing, she’d managed to inflict some damage. When the fiend had gone after her, Alex’s reaction had been instantaneous. He’d killed without hesitation. He had no mercy for men who harmed women. The coward deserved to die a far worse death than the swift one he’d been granted.
Of course, her courage wasn’t all that he’d noticed.
When she gazed up at him with wide green eyes that dominated her tiny heart-shaped face, he found himself unable to look away. Warmth spread through him, and he’d felt the stirrings of something that had been absent inside him for a long time. Desire.
His interludes with women over the past few years had been about satisfying the needs of his body; he had neither the time nor the inclination for anything else. But standing there, with her hair plastered to her head and rain streaming down her face and clinging to her long lashes, she looked like a drowned wood nymph. Sweet, vulnerable, and achingly lovely. And Alex felt the unmistakable pull of attraction. Attraction that now, after the fighting was done, had taken on a new potency.
He took the opportunity to observe her as she ministered to her mother. She was nothing like the flamboyant beauties who usually attracted him. Her beauty was more refined, less obvious. If it weren’t for those remarkable eyes, he might not have bothered to look closer. And it would have been a tragedy to miss the delicate turn of her cheek, the tiny pert nose, or the soft, lush curve of her mouth. His eyes lingered on her lips.
Damn, she was lovely.
And innocent.
His thoughts right now, however, were anything but innocent. They were filled with vivid passionate images of naked limbs and soft, silken heat. Of releasing the pent-up energy that lingered in his body from the fight. Perversely, he hungered for her innocence. As if her purity could wipe away the ugliness that surrounded him.
What was he doing? After what she’d been through…He shook off the strange yearning. He’d wanted to protect her, not capture her like his marauding Viking ancestors for his own pleasure. The primitive life of an outlaw had left its mark.
He took a few steps toward her, intending to see if she was all right. But at that moment, the woman she was tending sat up, enabling Alex to see her face for the first time. His step faltered. Damn. The Mackinnon’s lady. He looked back to the girl, seeing the resemblance. The lass must be his daughter.
He averted his face. Rosalind Mackinnon would know him.
He could dally no longer. Alex turned and ordered his men to be ready. Much to the relief of the Mackinnon guardsmen, he had offered the services of three of his men to travel with them until replacements arrived. The lass and her mother would be safe.
His job was done.
He mounted his destrier and turned to leave, unable to resist looking back at her one more time. Alex was not a man to be distracted by a lass. But there was something about this one. Perhaps it was because she reminded him of everything he’d left behind. Family. Hearth. Home. Things he hadn’t yearned for in a very long time. Her natural beauty was a stark contrast to the death and destruction he’d been surrounded by for the last few years.
His eyes fastened on hers, and he could see her hesitation, sense her wariness. As though she wanted to say something but was perhaps a little frightened.Of him.The truth struck him hard. Gazing around at the bodies scattered across the forest floor, he supposed he couldn’t blame her.
But he didn’t like it. Didn’t like it at all.
He’d just saved her, yet she looked at him with fear in her eyes.
This was what he did. It wasn’t pretty, but war never was.
Anger rose inside him and coupled with his primitive response to the lass made his blood run even hotter. He was tempted to give her reason for her fear. To pull her into his arms and reap the spoils of victory from her soft lips. But he hadn’t fallen that far from civilized. Yet.
“Ready, sir?” Robbie asked, looking at him strangely.
Alex shook off the lustful haze and forced an evenness to his tone that he did not feel. “Yes,” he answered. “We’ve delayed long enough.”
Without further hesitation, he turned and rode away.
