Page 5 of A Dangerous Highland Affair

“Lassie?” he said anxiously. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he steadied the woman, swaying in her seat. “Are ye alright?”

As the lad tightened his grip, all he could think about was the lushness of her lips and how much he wanted to dive in and kiss them awake.

It was then that he realized he could never let her go.

Everything had gone dark for a moment, and Teasag’s head spun.

“Lassie? Let’s sit ye down…,” the voice came closer. It had an edge to it, yet it was sweet at the same time. And like a single malt, it spread a warm tingle all the way through her.

It was his voice, the one who had saved her from the brutish farmer. Now, his sturdy arms were settling her back down in the seat. “Ye shouldn’t try to move lassie; ye could be hurt,” he scolded.

“I...I think I’m alright,” she said, shakily opening her eyes, and it took some time for her to readjust to the light.

“Just wait there, lassie,” said the man, patting her lightly upon the shoulder. “An’ this time dinnae try an’ get up!” And before Teasag had a chance to turn around, he had gone.

Looking about, Teasag found she was in an alcove against the back wall of the tavern. It was quiet here, but at the front, it still thronged with action.

The place was a mess with upturned drinks and what looked like a pool of blood on the floor.

“Och,” a low groan came from behind the wooden bar area, making Teasag look around anxiously.

“Dinnae try to move,” he warned her from across the bar. Obediently, Teasag stayed put. All she really wanted was the chance to see his face. Although he’d been sitting in front of her, she hadn’t looked at him properly. Either he’d turned his head away, or she’d been too dazed to see what he looked like.

It was only now, as she sipped at the refreshing ale, that her senses began to fully restore.

“I’ll be back soon, lassie,” the lad assured her, his voice pouring through her like honey. Maybe it was silly, but she felt as if she could trust him.

Squinting through the crowd, Teasag managed to make out the lad, pressed against the dark oak doors. For a moment, her heart faltered, wondering if he was simply going to walk away without her ever seeing his face.

But then, there was a hail of shouting, and Teasag’s heart quickened as she caught sight of the red-cheeked farmer being manhandled towards the door.

The lad managed to push the red-faced farmer outside with one or two others behind him as his friends slunk back to the bar. Finally, Teasag’s breathing returned to normal as he disappeared out of the door.

“An’ stay out!” the tall lad said, before turning his attention to the innkeeper. Now he was pacing over, crossing the packed tavern, to the bar.

Teasag tried to stand up, to see a little better but found she could not. The man’s face was lost in the crowd. When she saw him next, he was helping the innkeeper to his feet.

The silver-haired man groaned, and Teasag let out a gasp. The innkeeper’s cheeks were scratched and dripping with blood, both of his eyes were bruised, and from the way he was clutching his jaw, he had lost a tooth.

Whoosh! Teasag’s heart gave a giant shudder as she realized there had been a full-scale bar fight, with her at the center. She had been so rigid with fear that she had simply not noticed.

Immediately, Teasag felt a pang of guilt. It seemed as if the old man must have come to her aid but had been no match for the red-faced brigand and his friends.

“Is he hurt badly?” she asked, suddenly concerned. Forgetting the man's advice to keep still, Teasag scraped back her chair with the instant effect of summoning the lad back over.

“Och, I cannae nae ha’ ye swooning on me again!” the young man chided. It was good-natured but insistent, and within a couple of seconds, he was there again, his warm hand upon her.

Teasag twitched as the man’s soft touch caressed her tense shoulders. His masculine scent assured her that he wasn’t one of the drunken teuchters in the tavern, and his caress resonated on her skin, making it buzz and glow. Teasag felt the warmth from his sturdy fingers seep through her shoulders and soothe her tired body.

This was crazy; she hadn’t even seen him properly, yet already she was heating up inside.

“Och, are ye sure yer alright, lassie, really?” he asked.

Teasag nodded. “Aye, sir, I am. Thanks to ye. I just needed a sit doon an’ something to drink, I think.”

“Well, ye seem to have caused quite a stir, young lassie!” said the lad, with a smile. He sat down next to her, relinquishing his grip while placing something warm around her shoulders.

To her surprise, she found she was shivering, although it was not through the cold. The man tucked an unfamiliar brat around her shoulders. Somewhere, she must have had lost her hood—probably in the earlier tussle, and her shoulders were unexpectedly bare.