Page 31 of Highlander’s Mercenary Lass

"Grace?" he asked, a little cautiously. Warily, he looked around. He still thought there was someone about in the undergrowth.

"What are ye doing, ye great lummox!" Grace yelled. Andrew's jaw dropped.

"I'm getting ye oot o' bother, lass," he replied, perplexed. "So come on, afore they come back!"

Grace's eyes scrutinized Andrew. "Who comes back? What bother?"

A breeze danced about the glade, seeming to tease Andrew with its soft whistle.

Gaping, Andrew tried his best to explain. "I saw ye on the ground," he told her. "It looked like..."

Grace still had not calmed down. Her brown-gold eyes shone in the dim morning light. Looking up to the sky, it seemed as if it could not make up its mind whether it was going to rain or not. Suddenly, there was bright sunshine; the next moment, a cloud. A dark cloud scurried past as if to make its point as Andrew stood there, confused.

"Och, I ken what it looked like," snapped Grace. She had her arms around something that Andrew couldn't quite see. Despite everything that was going on, Andrew could not help noticing how alluring she looked in the early morning light.

Her hair caught the breeze, ruffling lightly into the steel-colored skies. And her skin...even in the harshest light of the Highlands, her complexion was pure and sweet. Unable to take his eyes off her, Andrew gazed at the fierce lass. Never mind the force gale getting up behind them; Grace looked like she was about to blow a storm of her own.

"It looked like an overbearing man seeing a lassie hunting, an' deciding he had tae do it for himself!" she fumed, her nostrils flaring angrily. Even in his surprise, Andrew had to hide a smile. She looked as if she should have flames coming out of them!

"N-Nay," he insisted, but his eyes were stuck, staring at her. Grace's sharp eyes caught him staring. She brought her face closer and scrutinized him.

"What? What is it?" she demanded.

"I wasnae about tae..." Andrew's voice trailed off. His brain was still trying to catch up. It was early. He hadn't fully come to yet. "Did ye say hunt?"

Grace stared at him blankly. Silently, she produced a rabbit from behind her shawl.

"Och," said Andrew, in surprise. "But I thought ye were in danger."

Now it was Grace's turn to look surprised. "Danger?" she questioned, indignant.

Irritation rippled through Andrew. He had been worried and now was less than impressed.

"Aye," he replied, annoyance taking him. "I mean, a lassie, alone, here, in the midst o' a bandit land. Anything can have happened."

Andrew's eyes flashed back at her, reminding her of the danger they were facing. For a moment, Grace looked slightly perturbed. But before she had a chance to say anything, Andrew continued.

"I mean, I wake up, an' ye’re gone. What am I supposed tae think?" he accused.

Displeasure was bubbling in his veins. Andrew was put out that Grace did not seem to understand the seriousness of the situation. He had been tasked with bringing her back to the Duncan clan safely. And yet, when he turned around, she had disappeared!

Judging by her face, Grace did not feel the same. She was angry. Andrew did not care. He had built up a head of steam, and she was going to hear it.

"Then I see ye, flat against the ground...an' it seems like ye may be hurt. Grace—it's irresponsible!"

Irresponsible?

It took a while for Grace to register what he said. Her emotions were swirling so fast she thought she was going to be sick.

Irresponsible? Who does this man think he is?

Incredulous, Grace stared up at the overbearing sight of Andrew. Sure, he was good-looking enough. Even through her rage, she could see that. But right then, just pure anger was all she could feel.

She had only met this man a day or so ago. In that time, he had turned her world upside down, and not all for good reasons.

Emotions clamored within her. Trembling, Grace dug her hands into her sides and fumed.

"Irresponsible?" she said. "Who are ye tae tell me I'm irresponsible? Ye pull me oot o' my house, an' tell me that everything in my life is a lie, then, when I go about my business, ye have the nerve tae call me irresponsible?"

Grace's eyes blazed with such rage that even battle-hardened Andrew backed off.

"Well, listen tae me. I dinnae have any responsibilities tae ye or yer laird, an' if the laird o' Duncan had taken his responsibilities a wee bit more seriously, then I wouldnae even be here!" she hissed. Grace's cheeks burned with the righteous rage she felt.

But inside, she felt sick.

Everything in her life had been turned on its head. She did not know who she was anymore and felt like sobbing. But there was no way she was going to show herself as being that weak, and especially not to this man.

Grace tried to withdraw herself, to take herself away from the heat. The intensity of everything she was feeling threatened to get too deep. All of a sudden, she had to get away from him.

Seeing her tremble, Andrew stepped forward. Without warning, he placed his hands on her cheek. Stroking her soft flesh, he felt her shiver. Unnerved, Grace looked up at him. She felt a surge of something running through her. Something sweet and wet. It was inside of her, tugging her deeply. A throb erupted from the very center of her.

Andrew took her hand, rubbing it gently; he brushed his face against her own. Then, just as she expected, he leaned in and kissed her sweetly.

For a while, they were locked as if joined together at the seams. She could not stop the hold he had on her. His skin was sensual and exciting, and Grace loved the feel of it next to her.

As much as she tried to, she could not stop. Andrew's kiss was like a whirlpool, tempting her yet further, sucking her into its depths.

And Grace was more than happy to dive in.