He just hadn’t expected this much feistiness, and skill too. The way she had rolled off his horse earlier proved she was strong enough to handle herself. He didn’t think she could handle a weapon, though. She was, after all, a lady.
And a very beautiful one, he thought as he became aware of her constantly glancing over her shoulder or to her side to take in her surroundings.
Killian had been trying to ignore the stir her scent caused inside him. He had first inhaled it when he had knocked her out atMcLennan Castle. For a second, he had paused because he had not expected to love it. It was a floral scent of jasmine and lilies, one that already toyed with his senses.
Her eyes too.
Her blue orbs were captivating. He had to remind himself not to stare too deeply into them because he might get lost.
Shuddering, he mentally kicked himself out of his thoughts, reminding himself that the lady was his enemy. Yes, a means to punish the man who had taken away his only family.
Killian knew once his revenge was over, Laird McLennan would beg for his mercy. Unless, of course, he was every bit the vile man the rumors said he is, and he cared little for his sister.
Then I would have no other choice than to kill her.
Even though Killian would miss looking at her lovely features, and inhaling her scent that already frazzled his mind.
He drew closer to MacColl Castle now with every distance they covered, and by dusk tomorrow, they would arrive at his castle.
Killian would put enough distance between himself and the stubborn lady once they arrived. His plan was all mapped out in his head. He would hold the lady captive until Laird McLennan came for her. Then, he would make the laird pay for killing his brother!
Dragging his mind out of his thoughts, Killian sighed and motioned for his men to take a short break. His horses needed to drink, and perhaps the lady, too, was thirsty from exerting herself when she had tried to fight him.
“Halt,” Killian signaled to his men as he slowed his ride, came to a stop by a large oak tree, and jumped off his saddle with ease.
He reached out to untie the gag shutting the lady up so he could ask her if she needed to drink water. She stirred awake then and slowly angled her head to look at him. For a split second, their gazes met and locked. An instant surge of tingles rushed through Killian as he stared into her blue eyes. They had deep flecks of gold, and he thought it was an unusual combination to have that shade of eyes and black hair. But it made her beautiful. Breathtaking, in fact, if he was being honest.
He loved how short her locks fell to her shoulders. Simple,he thought. That, too, was an unusual style for a Scottish lady. Most ladies liked to wear their hair in braids or decorate them with pins and furs.
“Are you going to help me down, or do I have to jump off the saddle like some caveman?” she snapped, the intense look in her eyes he had just been admiring replaced by an icy glare that cut through the bubble of warmth tunneling through him.
Her lips formed a stiff line, and her eyebrows creased together.
Killian ignored her tart comment and pulled her off the saddle with little remorse as she yelped from his force, then he draggedher to the tree, made her sit, and then crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“Do ye need water?”
“I need to do lady things,” she replied instead, still glaring at him. “Surely you can let me do that, at least.”
“Nay,” he replied and turned away from her, but not before he saw her eyes widen and her lips part. “If I give ye the chance, ye will try to run or kill yerself by runnin’ into a wild boar or another dangerous animal that would rip ye to shreds.”
“Then you can come with me,” she said, making him halt in his tracks.
Killian turned to look at her and saw that her eyes remained serious as she cocked her head to the side.
“Or have your men come with me if you think you cannot be a gentleman while a lady answers nature’s call.”
“I am a gentleman,” Killian insisted. “I willnae hurt ye. My men, on the other hand, will if ye try to escape from them.”
She snickered. “I highly doubt they can overpower me,” she shot back as her gaze skittered from his to his men. “I am not that fragile.”
Her last statement elicited a light, mocking laugh from him, and he found himself amused. First off, she had a sharp tongue, and now wit too. He eyed her as she struggled to stand on her feet.
The lady had a small frame. She was wearing men’s breeches and a léine, but none of that hid her feminine figure. He could make out the curve of her hips, and see the creamy skin of her face. He imagined the rest of her would look the same.
And feel the same.
When he had touched her bare arm earlier, his entire body had warmed with sensations he had not understood or liked.
