But what was he doing here? More important, how had he gotten here?
Good God!He had to have come through the tower window—a good forty feet above the cliff, and a hundred additional feet above the water below.
I’m not going to hurt you. She’d heard that before.
She tried to wrench free, elbowing him in the stomach to little effect. The granite-hard body didn’t yield an inch.
“Promise you won’t yell?” he whispered.
She nodded, and he let her go. Only to snap his hand back across her mouth when she opened her mouth to scream.
He made a tsk-tsk sound. “I thought you might be unreasonable, but fortunately I came prepared.”
He dangled a couple of thin bands of silk before her eyes. “I had hoped the next time I tied you up it would be under different circumstances.” Her eyes widened with outrage, but he only chuckled. “Sorry, lass, but we need to talk and I can’t take the chance of your not listening to reason. You can caterwaul all you want once we are away from here.”
Reason? When he was about to abduct her for the second time? And she didn’t caterwaul.
After deftly managing to replace his hand with the silk, he bound her hands. Unfurling the plaid from around his shoulders, he pulled a burlap sack from his belt and gave her an apologetic grimace. “As we can’t go out the way I came in, I’m afraid this is necessary.”
When she realized what he was going to do she tried to back away, but he caught her by the waist and dropped the sack over her head. She squirmed and kicked at him like a banshee, but he tossed her over his shoulder as if she were an unruly sack of flour, wrapping the plaid around his shoulders to cover her legs.
So much for her hair and finery. Of all the …
She was infuriated by his brutish treatment, but couldn’t help wondering why he was doing this.
Only one answer made sense, but she wasn’t going to fall into that trap again of letting herself believe that he cared for her.
She bounced along as he made his way down the dark corridors and winding stairs of the main tower of Dunluce. With all the excitement and confusion of the wedding, it seemed no one noticed the big man with the squirming sack swung over his shoulder.
She put up a good fight despite her circumstances, landing a good kick or two, until he put his hand on her bottom. The smooth caresses sent shivers of awareness shooting through her that made her body go limp and boneless. When she squirmed again it was with something else, and the blighter—drat the chuckling braggart—knew it.
She felt the cool breeze when they exited the tower. A few minutes later the ground became steeper, and she knew he must have crossed the bridge and started down toward the cave. She didn’t struggle for fear she would send them both down the cliffside. But sure-footed as usual, he navigated the terrain like a wildcat.
Suddenly the air grew still and damp, and she knew they must be in the Mermaid’s Cave. Where it had all begun. A few minutes later she heard the splash of water against his legs and then felt herself lifted into a boat. Another man took hold of her and seated her on a wooden bench. “I’m watching the teeth and elbows this time, lass.”
Domnall. She should have known he’d be involved in this. Some thanks she got for helping him escape. She tried to tell him just as much, but he only chuckled—no doubt understanding the gist of her muffled ramblings.
A short time later, the ship picked up speed, and the sack was lifted off her head. She blinked against the sun, seeing Erik standing there innocently. Wisely, the other men had given them some space—as much as they could on the smallbirlinn.
He winced, accurately reading the daggers in her eyes. “Perhaps I should wait awhile to take off the bindings until she calms down,” he said to Domnall a few feet in front of them.
The older man shrugged. “I’m afraid you have your work cut out for you either way, lad.”
Erik must have decided to take his chances, because he started to untie the silk bindings at her wrists and mouth.
When she was free, she turned on him, intending to vent her anger, but a glimpse of the castle in the background stopped her cold. Her heart dropped seeing the enormous cliff. He had to be mad, climbing up the tower like that. He could have killed himself.
She got her first good look at him, and her foolish heart did a little flip. He’d shaved most of the scruff from his face, leaving a devilishly thin line of whiskers down his chin. It was the strangest beard she’d ever seen, but the line of stubble seemed to suit him. He’d trimmed his hair, though it was still long enough to fall across his piercing blue eyes. Piercing blue eyes that were looking at her with a strange softness that made her senses prickle. He wore a soft leather war coat, but no other armor (probably due to the asinine climb). Teeth flashing white against his sun-drenched skin, he looked unbearably handsome. It almost hurt just to look at him.
She finally found her tongue. “What in God’s name do you think you are doing? Take me home at once.”
“I wanted to apologize.”
Apologize? After he’d broken her heart and then, for good measure, crushed it beneath his heel?
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that?”
He winced, taking in her rumpled finery. The boyish expression of contrition on his face reminded her of her brother Edmond. But he hadn’t broken a flowerpot or dropped a fine piece of glass; he’d shattered something far more precious.
