Heart of the Highlands: The Beast (Protectors of the Crown Book 1) (4 page)

Ian gazed into the lass’s light blue eyes. Her nose was crinkled and she had a look of defiance. Ian pursed his lips at her expression. Perhaps Rylan was right. This lass was going to be a problem.

“I will no’ say a word!” she cried out. “No’ unless ye tell me who ye are and what ye want of me!” 

“And if I do, ye will agree to listen to what I tell ye?”

The lass hesitated but eventually nodded her head.

“I think ‘tis safe to let her go. She will no’ be running off again,” Ian said to Leland though he meant it more as a warning to the lass. Leland hesitantly released her and went to join the others as they finished packing up the stolen supplies. “My name is Ian and what I want from ye will have to wait. We have little time and night is coming upon us fast. We must head back to the camp. T’will be dark soon and I am taking ye wit’ us.”

“I would no’ have been alone if ye had no’ denied me my escorts, and allowed us to carry on wit’ our journey.”

“Twas no other way,” he replied.

“What do ye mean, no other way?”

“Lassie, I will tell ye all ye need to know once we reach camp. Ye will be ridin’ wit’ me.”

“And if I refuse?”

Ian lowered his gaze. This lass was testing him! She was daring, he had to give her that.

Lowering his voice so only she could hear, he whispered, “Then I shall tie ye up, string ye to the back of my horse and drag ye back to camp.”

“Ye would no’ dare! I am a Lady!” she growled.

Ian raised a brow.

“Dinna try my patience lass. I am a mon of my word!”

In truth, Ian would never have followed through with his threat, but little did she need to know that. Keeping her in fear of him was one sure way to guarantee she would not run off again.

~*~

Though she had no intentions of agreeing with anything he said or asked of her, she would, for now, obey his command until she found the opportunity to escape his clutches. She refused to be subdued by outlaws and thieves. It would only be a matter of time before her father or Laird Chisholm came looking for her and she would be safe and far away from these barbarians soon enough.

There were two types of Highlanders in Keira’s mind; those who were honorable and those who lacked honor. It was clear which category these men fell into.

Standing near a beautiful russet-colored mare, the
Beast
stood holding out his hand to help her mount. The smug smile made Keira want to slap that expression right off his face. Clutching her fist at her side, she thought it best not to retaliate and bit her tongue.

“I will do it myself, thank ye!” she spat.

Lifting the skirt of her dress with one hand and holding the reins with the other, she raised her leg and slipped her foot inside the stirrup. The horse was tall. Taller than any beast she had ever seen. The height of the stirrup made it hard for her to lift herself onto its back. Had she not had to hold back the layers of the skirt, it might have been an easier task.  

“Damn this dress,” Keira quietly cursed as she tempted to mount again.

“Hurry up lass, we have no’ got all day,” one of the ruffians called out.

She could hear the humor in his tone and could feel the eyes of the others around her, watching her. She could have done without their mockery and boorish behavior.

Before Keira had time to protest, the
Beast
reached for her waist, lifted her into the air, and plopped her down on top of the horse with a hard thud. Keira turned to look at him, narrowing her eyes at his proud grin.

She had no idea where these men were taking her, but she would escape soon enough, even if she had to walk all the way back from whence they came.

Her captor leapt onto the horse behind her with ease and took the reins to lead the horse onwards. Sitting on the horse’s back, she held onto its sides with a light squeeze of her thighs. Thankful for the fluff of the horses’ mane she grasped in her hand, it allowed her to pull her hips forward, keeping a comfortable distance from him without sliding back against his firm chest.

At full speed, Keira’s tightly knitted braids began to loosen. It was only moments before the ribbon that tied the braids flew off with the force of the wind. The horse veered from side to side forcing Keira to grip the horse’s withers with her hands which caused her bottom to slip back into the
Beast
. She felt her behind lift slightly and jostle as the mare galloped the uneven terrain. Before she knew it, she was nearly sitting on the man’s lap. Securing her atop the horse, he firmly held her waist. Sending a silent prayer to the heavens, she prayed this was not a long journey.

Chapter 4

Ian kept a steady, watchful eye on the lass riding in front of him. Torn between pity and mistrust, he started to second guess his intentions. He would never mistreat a woman the way he had treated her, but his prejudice against Chisholm made the lass an easy target and an easy bargaining chip. There was a chance the lass was completely ignorant of her laird’s treachery, but then again perhaps not. Ian could not afford to take unnecessary chances.

He watched as her body was jostled up and down atop the horse. She was barely able to hold on at their rapid pace. Her copper locks blew wildly in the wind and the skirt of her dress fluttered at her sides, revealing the top of her knee and her shapely, smooth calves and trim ankles.

Not easily swayed by a pretty face and a firm backside, Ian was drawn to the wee vixen. Normally, he wouldn’t have given much attention to the lass but her grunts and moans were next to impossible for any man to ignore, not to mention her body tightly pressed up against his. No matter how steadfast he was, he was still a man.

Ian found himself finding excuses to glance down at her. Mayhap it was the unanswered questions about her identity that sparked his curiosity; or perhaps the way wisps of her hair tickled his face like a feather, either way he could not draw his gaze from her. Feeling her backside pressed hard against his groin, Ian knew that once their reached camp he would be in need of a dip in the loch to cool his loins.

They had ridden almost an hour and the lass had remained quiet. She had not complained once. He admired her tenacity.

“Is it too much to ask fer us to stop? I need some privacy,” the lass called out.

“Ye cannae hold it?” Ian asked.

“I have no’ control o’er when nature calls, any more than I have control o’er the weather. Surely ye must know that!”

Grunting, Ian pulled on the reins bringing his horse to a halt as the others followed suit.

“Is something amiss?” Rylan asked. “Why did we stop?”

“The lass needs to piss.”

“Dinna she know the dangers of stopping here? We have just entered into Sutherland land.”

Ian knew very well where they were. He was reluctant to stop, but knew by the tone in the lass’s voice that she was not going to be able to wait any longer.

“Why dinna ye and the rest of the men continue on to the camp? We will be shortly behind ye.”

“I dinna think that is a good idea, Ian,” Rylan warned.

“T’will be fine. It should no’ take more than a few moments.”

Rylan nodded to him and snapped the reins. Ian watched as his men took off toward their camp, still another hour’s ride south. Sliding down the side of the horse, he dismounted to help the lass down. When he gazed up to her, he was taken aback by the disgruntled lass staring down at him.

The lass’s reddened, wind-chapped cheeks and wild curly hair made her look spent, as if she had worked a hard day out in the fields under the heat of a beating sun. No longer looking so prim and proper, the fragile rose he had first seen, she now appeared as a force to be reckoned with. He could only imagine what went on in that delicate mind of hers. She did not look affright one bit, but ill-tempered and feisty. Ian had to admit she almost looked better mussed than as the noblewoman she had first appeared to be in the royal-looking dress saw was wearing. Somehow, the opulent gown just didn’t
suit
her.

“Do ye need assistance, my lady?” he asked, as the lass still sat perched on top of the horse.

He doubted with the thick skirt of the gown she could dismount without falling.

“I do no’ need yer help,” she ignorantly replied.

Ian took a small step back allowing the lass to dismount of her free will. He watched in amusement as she appeared helpless and befuddled. Ian decided a little humiliation would be good to help the lass learn her place and knock her off that high pedestal she appeared to keep herself on.

As Keira swung her leg over to the other side of the horse, she swayed a moment before losing her balance atop the saddle and started to tumble off. With reflexes as fast as a falcon, Ian stretched out his arms and caught the lass in midair.

She felt as light as a wee bairn. Holding her in his arms, he inhaled, and her lavender scent filled his nostrils. It had been a long time since he’d had any physical contact with a woman. He had forgotten how delicate they were. His skin began to heat up from the feel of her body pressed against his. Her small frame and the curve of her hip fit perfectly against him. Ian’s eyes instinctively swept over her, assessing her, before his gaze locked on her eyes. He had never seen such a majestic color of blue before. Along the outer rim, a dark shade of blue outlined the iris as it faded inward to a light blue, the color of ice. They were entrancing, like two blue gems in a crystal cave.

“Are ye alright?” he asked as he reluctantly set her onto her feet.

“Nay, I am no’ alright!” she angrily replied.

Ian noticed tears filling her eyes.

“Are ye hurt?”

“Nay!”

“Then why are ye crying?”

“Does it really matter?” she replied making sure he saw her slant her eyes at him as she started walking away.

“Where do ye think ye are going?” Ian asked, stepping out in front of her, blocking her path.

“To piss! Remember?”

The lass stared at him wickedly. She had a sort of demanding nature that Ian admired in a woman. Ian studied her for a moment. It appeared this wee flower had some fire to her that he found rather intriguing.

“There’s a spot o’er there that will offer ye some privacy,” he said pointing to a cluster of short bushes. “Ye may go but be quick about it. We are no’ on friendly territory. I will be right here so dinna think of trying to run off,” Ian said, hoping she would heed his warning; this was neither the place nor the time to run after a wayward lass.

~*~

Keira went behind the bushes for some privacy. Lifting her skirts, she had trouble relieving herself as she could hear his footsteps just on the other side of the bushes. She felt violated. Once she was done, she lowered her skirt back down, stood and listened. Peeking through the branches, she hoped to have found her assailant occupied, giving her the opportunity to run, but she had no such luck. His attention was pinned on the bushes and surrounding area, watching with eyes like a hawk. Escaping him was going to be a challenge. Her only hope was to appeal to his male ego. Every man wanted something; she just had to figure out what this man wanted.

Keira came from behind the bushes with many questions flooding her mind. She knew she had to continue being strong, though at times she faltered. She managed to erect a shield of bravado on the outside, but on the inside, she felt like a scared child. There was so much evil in this world she had never known existed. From inside her protective sanctuary at Castle Sinclair, she had never been given the opportunity to explore what the world had to offer, and now she dreaded finding out. 

Looking at the warrior who stood before her, a part of her wished she knew more about him and his intentions. At least then she could measure how dangerous he was and if he meant to harm her. Earlier, he introduced himself as Ian. How she wished he would have said his full name. Then, at least, she would know his clan affiliation.

Standing in the ray of sun that shined down from the canopy of the trees, he looked like a Greek God. He stood tall and upright, shoulders back, and his hands were firmly placed on his hips. He was a prime example of confidence, intimidation, and control.

His gaze was daunting. Standing with him alone in the woods, Keira felt unnerved as the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Her face felt flushed, her hands, cold and clammy, and her breathing quickened as if he had conjured a spell over her senses. Around him, she felt a sort of dizzy sensation as if the air had thickened, making it hard to breath. What was this tension that filled the air? Why was his gaze like a spear, penetrating her very being, right to the core?

She called him the
Beast
but not for his size or his stature. It was because he was as lethal and dangerous as a fire-breathing dragon. Stand too close and one could easily get burned by his flames. Even the look in his eyes had a way of putting one into submission. She imagined that he was used to getting what he wanted, she only wished to know what it was he wanted from her.

As Keira was about to look away, a blinding shimmer of light caught her attention. Around his neck he wore a golden medallion. The image pressed on the face of the circular medallion was of the Scottish crown with two swords crisscrossed behind it. It was a Scottish crest but none like she had ever seen. It must be of great importance if it represented the Scottish crown, but what? Perhaps it meant nothing. He could have just as easily stolen it, like everything he had stowed away in his satchels. The greed of men! Preying on the weak! Pillaging villages and kidnapping helpless women. Keira turned away from him.  

“Lass, we’ve stalled long enough. We need to go.”

“Please let me go. I mean nothing to ye. I am nobody.”

“Lady Chisholm…”

He started, and Keira burst out, “I am no’ Lady Chisholm!”

At least not yet!
Laird Chisholm had only accepted her hand in marriage, but in truth, she wanted nothing to do with the marriage or the man and she would hold onto that information for as long as possible.

She was no more than a peasant with a good name. The union between her and Laird Chisholm was all her father needed to ensure their clan’s survival. Without Chisholm’s offering, they would have been left with nothing. But what would
this man
know? He was just an outlaw! He was probably hoping for some large ransom, but he would be sorely disappointed to find out that he’d kidnapped the dowerless daughter of an impoverished laird. 

“If ye are no’ a Chisholm lass, then who are ye and why were ye traveling on his ally’s land in Chisholm’s own carriage?”

Keira hesitated for a moment, debating whether she should tell him the truth. But what was the harm in telling him that he’d kidnapped the wrong prize?

“I am Lady Keira Sinclair, the eldest daughter of Laird Magnus Sinclair. And if ye do no’ release me I promise ye that all hell and fury will rain down upon ye. The wrath of my father is fierce and he does no’ show mercy to…to rotten bastards like ye.”

“Sinclair?” his brow rose as he questioned. “Why would a Sinclair lass be traveling through to Chisholm lands?”

“I was no’ traveling through Chisholm lands. I was traveling to Chisholm land.”

“Why?”

“I dinna see how that is any of yer business!”

“Tis, because I just made it my business. Do no’ make me ask ye again!” he warned.

“I was to meet Laird Chisholm this afternoon.”

“Why?”

Keira bit her lower lip, almost ashamed of the reason.

“Because…today is my wedding day.
Was
my wedding day,” she corrected herself. “I am to marry Laird Chisholm; that is why ye must release me! If word gets to him that ye have stolen his bride I’m sure he will send his forces after ye and yer men!”

Ian’s expression went from curiosity to anger. His eyes darkened and brow furrowed. He said nothing in response, and his eyes squinted as he looked into the distance. Tension filled the air like a storm was brewing. The silence was deafening and her nerves began to crawl. What was it that she said to cause his change in demeanor? Did it matter that she was getting married? People got married all the time.

“If ye were heading to marry Laird Thomas Chisholm, then ye should be thanking me.”

“Thanking ye? For what? Ye attacked my carriage, relieved me of my escort, and now are holding me against my will. Where in this situation do ye think I owe ye any sort of thanks?”

“For saving ye!”

“Saving me? From whom?”

“Laird Chisholm!”

“The only saving I need is from ye!”

Ian snickered.

“Ye have no idea the type of mon he is, do ye?”

Keira ignored his question, yet couldn’t help but wonder what he meant. From what her father had told her, he was a good man. And somehow believing that Ian was some kind of knight in shining armor was about as believable as she being the Queen of Scotland!

“Ye told me earlier that if I told ye who I was and why I was crossing into Chisholm land ye would release me. Will ye keep yer word?”

Ian walked back and forth for a moment before stopping in his tracks.

“I can no’ allow ye to continue on yer course. But ye have my word that no’ harm will come to ye.”

The lying whoreson!

“Ye tricked me! Ye never had any intention of letting me go, did ye?”

“Aye, I did and I still do, but first I need to speak to my men,” he said as he grabbed her upper arm.

“Where will ye be taking me? Is Laird Chisholm in some kind of trouble? I demand to know! I have a right!”

He stopped and turned to look at her.

“Aye ye do, but I dinna believe I need to tell ye of such things, at least no’ yet!”