Page 20 of Taken By the Exiled Laird

Theon snorted and didn't argue. He turned to see Briana again and raised an eyebrow to see her approaching, her chin held high. He didn't speak until she stood before him, still dressed in one of his oversized undershirts belted around the middle, a regal look of pride in her eyes.

"Can I help ye?" he asked once she stood in front of him with her arms folded.

Briana narrowed her eyes for just a second, then resumed her haughty expression. "I have finished repairing my dress. I would like a bath."

He tried to remain serious, but his lips twitched as he watched her. It was so ludicrous, the whole situation. He tried to imagine how the Theon from ten years ago would have reacted to a young woman talking to him about bathing and it took everything he had not to laugh out loud. No doubt Briana was used to attendants seeing to her every whim, but here she was, putting on airs to ask a wanted outlaw for a wash.

"Certainly, me lady," he replied, sweeping down into a mocking bow. "Shall I fetch a gold tub and the lavender oil as well?"

Briana did not laugh, nor did she react in any way to his mockery. In fact, she folded her arms, continuing to stare at him with the same unimpressed expression. "I would like a bath," she repeated. "I am tired of washin' in the same washbasin ye use tae clean blood from yer hands. Ye'll show me tae the nearest river where ye fetch yer water, and I'll use it tae bathe. I havenae felt clean since the moment we met."

"Amusin' that Laird Cameron's daughter would talk about the blood on our hands," Keir called over from where he and Graeme had paused in their sparring to shamelessly listen. "Show her the burn, Theon. Perhaps she'll be swept away by the current and she'll nae be our problem anymore."

Graeme nudged Keir hard with his elbow, but Theon simply took Briana's arm and led her away, preventing her from the chance to retort.

She did not speak to him as he guided her out of the camp and through the forest trees, nor did she look at him except to make sure they were still headed in the right direction. After about ten or fifteen minutes, they stepped out from the dense trees into the small clearing through which the burn ran, the water racing fast down the slight slope over stones beaten smooth by years. He loved this spot. He often came here to think, or swim, or, yes, bathe. They fetched water from further upstream, but this place—this was his.

"It's fair bonny," Briana said, forgetting to sound unimpressed as she hung her fresh dress over a tree branch and took an eager step toward the water.

Theon grabbed her wrist. "Nae so fast." He pulled her back against him, wrapping his arms around her, trying not to notice how warm and soft she felt pressed up against his chest. "I caught ye like this once before. If ye want tae bathe, ye need tae earn it. Break me hold, show me ye can protect yerself for even a moment. That's all ye have tae do."

Briana scoffed, her breath quickening even as she tried to hide it. Her hair tickled his chin, and when she squirmed against him, his body shivered with the urge to pull her even closer. "As if I could. Ye're mockin' me. I have nae idea where tae even start."

Keeping her pinned with one arm, he lowered his other hand and indicated the points on her body she could use to fight back. He touched her lower abdomen, his finger lingering for just a moment as he said, "Drive yer elbow back here. If yer attacker isnae grippin' ye well, it should be enough tae drive him off."

She let out a little gasp at his touch, so small he might have imagined it, and something inside him growled. Slowly, she drew her elbow back, aiming for the spot in his belly he'd shown her. It connected with no pressure, and Theon nodded.

"Good," he said. "But if I was holdin' ye with both arms, there's nae way it would work." He trailed his fingers up her arm, then to various other points, explaining as he went the moves she'd need to take to break a tighter grip.

Every time his hand moved, her body responded with the smallest of shivers or the tiniest of caught breaths, and every time she reacted, heat and longing washed over him in a way he hadn't felt in a long, long time. Frustrated, he pushed those feelings away, focusing only on what was happening now, growing more and more irritable as he went. He guided her through the moves, and soon her dismissive and angry responses transformed, a look of concentration and pure focus appearing on her face by the time she finally turned to face him.

"What next?" she asked as they separated, an eagerness in her tone now. "How would I disarm him so he couldnae grab me again?"

Theon's lips quirked in a half-smile. "Seems the princess wants tae fight."

"I'm nae princess," she replied with a scowl. "Answer me question."

He grabbed her wrist again and pulled her back to the starting position. "Ye run," he murmured in her ear. "Now, again. Show me what I just taught ye."

They practiced the moves again and again, first with him guiding her and then with her taking charge until she was almost perfect. When they separated for the fifth time, he saw her shaking out her hands and knew that she must be sore, but he pretended not to notice.

"Ready tae try it for real?" he asked.

She raised an eyebrow and smiled. "I dinnae suppose I can simply bathe?"

He frowned at her teasing, shocked to the core by her smile. Something dangerous rose within him like a wave on the tide, and he had to fight the urge to grab her face between his hands and greet that smile with the urgent attention it demanded. His mouth prickled with anticipation, and he scowled as he banished the idea. Didn't she understand who she was? Who he was? What was happening here?

"Take this seriously. Ye're in danger," he reminded her.

Her eyes flashed. She stepped closer. "Maybe ye're the one in danger."

He grabbed her wrist again without any warning, and she cried out in surprise as he dragged her back against him. There was no gentleness or holding back this time as he used both his arms to lock her in an iron grip, caging her in a tight hold. "Let's see," he growled. "Break it."

Briana immediately tried to hit back with her elbow, but his grip was too tight, his stance too strong, and she couldn't do it. She let out a frustrated noise and struggled against him, and as she writhed, his grip only tightened. He was going too far, and yet some animalistic part of his brain roared at him to never let go—to hold her in place until she yielded once and for all. But then she cried out, her frustration mounting, and kicked backward with her foot, catching him by surprise.

Theon stumbled, and Briana took advantage immediately, twisting in his arms so that they were face-to-face. He reacted on instinct, tightening his grip rather than releasing her, and he lost his balance entirely. The two of them fell as one, crashing to the ground. Silence followed the fall, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the racing water.

Briana lay on the ground, her hair fanned out behind her, her eyes wide and astonished as she stared up at him. Theon pinned her in place, his body weighing hers down, their faces so close that he could feel her breath on his lips. She was entirely in his power, he realized with a shiver—and yet, at that moment, he felt powerless.