Page 11 of Seduction in a Kilt

CHAPTER FOUR

Liam noticed that when he mentioned the name of Carson MacAlister, the girl’s eyes briefly flashed with defiance, and he wondered why that should be so.

Her defiance seemed so out of place for a common thief. That coupled with the fact she was wearing a MacAlister ring, gave him pause. There could be a lot more tae this than I initially thought, he mused as he bathed the cut beneath her eye, drinking in her delicate beauty.

In truth, he found himself quite entranced by her pale, flawless skin and the light sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her small, straight nose, which gave her a slightly mischievous look. Her small, full lips were a little swollen from the rough treatment she had received in her youth’s guise, which he regretted. He could not help wondering how nice it would be to kiss them. But it was her eyes that made his belly clench. They were large and dark blue, and they twinkled in the light of the fire, reminding him of the night sky.

She’s the loveliest lassie I’ve ever laid eyes on, he thought to himself a little sadly. What a shame we havetae meet like this. ’Tis hard tae think she’s gonnae hate me fer what I must dae. But it is me duty, and I have a sense there could be a much larger connection between her and MacAlister than just a matter of her bein’ a spy in his employ.

He finished cleaning her wound, and they talked for a while longer, but he got nothing useful out of her. She kept insisting that she was running from her own wedding, but the story seemed so outrageous as to be beyond belief.

He looked up at the sky through the canopy of the trees. The weather was still windy and menacing, and he reluctantly decided it would be best to wait until morning to travel.

“We’ll stay here for the night and go tae the castle in the mornin’,” he told her. He spread out a blanket next to his bedroll and gestured for her to lie down next to him. He was astonished when she bridled.

“I’m nae laying down there next tae ye all night!” she declared, looking horrified.

He could not help smiling. “Why nae? Who are ye, the Queen of bloody Sheba? Ye think yersel’ too good tae lay next tae me, eh? I’ll nae touch ye, but why should we nae share a bed if ye’re nae a threat tae me like ye claim?”

She stared at him, her fists clenched in obvious exasperation. She opened her mouth, clearly about to argue.

“Lie down!” he commanded in a tone that brooked no argument. She huffed loudly. Making her reluctance bindingly clear, she obeyed. He lay down next to her. “I’ll tie ye tae me waist, so dinnae bother gettin’ any ideas about takin’ off again,” he warned her, binding her wrists and ankles and securing her by a line of rope to his waist.

“All right, Amy, good night. Try tae get some rest.”

She lay with her back to him, inches away. He remained awake for a while, listening to the wind, until her breathing gradually slowed. Then he allowed himself to fall asleep.

The cold dawn woke him. That and the pain in his back. When he looked up at the sky, he realized the bad weather had blown itself out, though it was still cold and blustery. They could continue to Castle Stewart without further delay.

He looked over to where his prisoner was lying next to him perfectly still. Something about the tension in her body told him she was awake too. He sat up, stretched and cracked his bones, then added some more wood to the fire to bring it up again. He warmed his hands over the flames.

She eventually sat up, shivering as she clutched the blanket around her for warmth and to hide the rip in her shirt. In the bright daylight, her ethereal beauty took his breath away. Just looking at her stirred some masculine instinct deep inside him he could not account for.

His response to her troubled him. In the company of a pretty woman, he counted himself as ready for a tumble as the next man. In more conducive circumstances, he admitted he would have taken her to his bed like a shot if she was willing, no question. But this was far more than simple lust.

Her very presence seemed to command another part of him that was unfamiliar, disturbing even. It was like an ache located somewhere in his chest, around the region of his heart. As he busied himself with simple tasks, he found himself torn. Let her go, a part of him whispered. Nay, I must dae me duty tae Knox and his clan, said another.

When he offered her something to eat, she said nothing, only shook her long, dark hair, looking as though she was about to go to her execution. It troubled him to think that, in a way, she very well might be.

“Ye need somethin’ inside ye tae keep yer strength up,” he told her, concerned that she must be cold and hungry.

“Ready fer me torture, ye mean, I suppose,” she said glumly.

“Suit yersel’,” he replied, wondering again if he was doing the right thing in taking her back for interrogation. Once more, he toyed with the idea of letting her go and saying she had escaped. But he just could not face letting down Knox, telling himself that if she were innocent, then nothing bad would happen to her. He was pleased when she at least accepted some hot tea, drinking it slowly, while he breakfasted on some bread and dried meat.

It was embarrassing for them both when they had to answer a call of nature. To make sure she did not try to run again, he agreed to untie her ankles but kept her hands bound as they went into the trees. He was forced to pee standing on one side of a tree trunk, while she squatted down to relieve herself on the other side, emerging with her cheeks glowing red. As he led her back to the camp, he thought she looked lovelier than ever.

He re-tied her ankles and set her by the fire while he broke camp. Finally, making sure she was firmly wrapped in the blanket, he brought his horse over. Once he had packed up his saddle bags, he lifted her up into the saddle. She weighed almost nothing, and his hands easily spanned her waist. The curves beneath the blanket felt warm and soft. Trying to ignore the strange tingling in his hands, he swung himself up behind her.

“Are ye comfortable there?” he asked, finding himself worrying about her more than he should over a potential spy. But he could not seem to help himself. Spy or not, she was young woman, the most beautiful he had ever seen, and he could not find it in himself to be unnecessarily harsh with her.

Thankfully, he knew Knox was not a cruel man either, plus he was well-known for having a soft spot for the ladies. Liam managed to partially convince himself that no real harm would come to her at Laird Stewart’s hands.

“Nay. How can I be comfortable with me hands and feet tied?” she answered bluntly. Her slender body wriggled against him as he held her within the cage of his body, her backside pressing against his thighs. Her hair tickled his nose, and he could smell the sea in it. Despite the circumstances, he rather liked having her there and did his best to let her get comfortable.

He kicked the horse into a walk and set off for Castle Stewart. On the journey, they were mostly silent. She answered his questions in monosyllables, giving off an air of going to her doom.

However, the longer she was pinned between his thighs, the more he felt her heat seeping into him, and he became increasingly aware of the effect she was having on his body. He felt himself hardening in his trews. Embarrassed, he shifted uncomfortably in the saddle to conceal his state of arousal.