Highland Hellcat (2010) (7 page)

BOOK: Highland Hellcat (2010)
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Except for today, when he took her away from her father.

“Please…”

“That will nae work tonight, lass, but I am sorry to hear the fear in yer voice. I swear I will keep my word about treating ye gently. I will nae force myself on ye, but I will take ye to my land, where I’ll have the time to court ye.”

He’d lowered his voice and muttered his promise against her ear. She shivered, but Brina wasn’t sure if it was the words or the deep timbre of his voice that made her do so. The scent from his skin surrounded her, filling her senses every time she inhaled, and she realized she liked it.

How could she?

She muttered a soft cry and renewed her struggles. There wasn’t much she might do, because she was pinned beneath his greater weight, so she sent her hands toward his face, her fingers curled like talons. She felt her nails sink into his skin. He snarled and arched his neck to escape her attack.

“I already thought ye had the makings of a hellcat; now I know for sure.”

Connor pushed up and away from her, but he flipped her over onto her belly and leaned against her back to control her once again. Brina strained against him, welcoming the bite of his harder grip because it drove her enjoyment of his body away.

“I am nae a… a…” She was gasping for breath, the effort of trying to shove him away from her making her pant.

“Not a hellcat?” She felt his chest vibrate with his amusement. “Well, ye scratch and hit like one, and that’s a fact.”

Brina strained again. “Ye’re horrible to call me such a name simply because I will nae crumple at yer feet and weep with defeat.” Her hands were pressed to the ground, and she felt a sizable rock beneath her palm. It sent pain through her hand, but she grasped it and pushed back against Connor with all her might. Her effort gained her a few inches because he wasn’t expecting it. She lifted the rock, then brought it smashing down onto his shin. The soft leather of his knee-high boots did little to shield him from her attack, and he jumped with a low growl.

“Give me that rope, Shawe.” Connor looped a hard arm across her waist and sent her onto her back once more.

“I was nae going to tie ye up, Brina, but ye are too much of a hellcat to leave with yer hands free to inflict pain on me.”

“I’m trying to escape, ye daft man! It is the only decent thing to do. That does nae make me a hellcat.”

“I can understand how ye think that, lass, but it only makes me surer that what I’m doing is the right course of action to follow. I’ve no taste for a timid woman, and ye have nae the amount of meekness a nun will need to last a lifetime serving the church.”

“That is my father’s choice, nae yers, Connor Lindsey!”

She still held the rock, and she sent it toward one of the hands that held her down. He yelped and grabbed her wrist, his strength drawing a startled gasp from her lips, because he had obviously tempered it until now. The rock dropped from her fingers as pain bit into her. The moment she released her weapon, the torment ended, and he leaned down over her until she felt his breath against her lips. She turned her face away, but that allowed him to press a light kiss against the side of her neck. Sensation rippled down her body from that touch, surprising her with how much pleasure her skin might feel.

“Nay, lass, it is my choice now, because I’ve caught ye, and Highlanders keep the women they manage to steal.”

She snarled and heard a soft sound that was far too close to a chuckle come from one of his men. Obviously they had company now, and her face flamed to think that her shame was being witnessed. She heard the rope hit the ground near her head before Connor released one of her arms to reach for it. She swung her closed fist toward his head and hissed when it connected. Pain snaked down her arm and into her shoulder, but the grunt she heard from him was worth it.

“Get yer hands off of me, Connor Lindsey!”

He threw his leg over her instead and clamped her body between his thighs. She growled as he grabbed one of her wrists, and she felt the rope looping around it. She gritted her teeth, waiting for pain to bite into her when he tightened that binding.

It never came. Connor controlled the knot in spite of her struggles, securing both her wrists together in front of her before he released his legs, and she rolled over in a huffing tangle of cloak and robes.

“Ye have too much spirit to make a good nun, Brina, but I would nae expect ye to know that.”

“That is an unholy thing to say!”

He reached down and lifted her to her feet with an ease that humiliated her. It shouldn’t have been right for him to be able to capture her so simply.

“No, it isn’t. The church will no’ be pleased, I understand that well enough, but yer father made an agreement with me, and I plan to keep it. Yer father will be the one making peace with the church.”

He leaned over, and a moment later she was hanging over his shoulder like a fallen deer. He clamped a hand over the backs of her thighs, sending heat into her face because she was suddenly acutely aware of how close his hand was to her bottom.

“I will nae go with ye.”

She straightened up but shrieked when he landed a hard slap directly on one side of her rear end, and collapsed back over his shoulder.

“Ye’re going, one way or another, lass.” He kept his hand on her bottom, his fingers gently rubbing the spot he’d spanked.

“Move yer hand away…”

She was reduced to pleading once again, because her body was quivering in response to his touch. It made no sense, but she could not seem to control her responses, and she was more aware of her sex than she ever had been.

“Only if ye behave, lass.”

His hand moved, and she shuddered. Relief crossed her mind, but it did not banish the odd awareness completely. She couldn’t hear his feet hitting the ground, but he was moving through the trees, taking her away just as he had said he would.

It was madness. The sort that would see them both condemned by the church. But he kept walking, and she heard the soft sound of horses. Connor set her down on her feet, and she drew in a soothing breath as her belly complained about being forced to lie over his hard shoulder. There seemed to be nothing soft about the man at all.

Especially when it came to what he decided was the right course of action.

Connor gained the back of his stallion without any further hesitation. His men were all mounting their horses, none of them looking as if they might have misgivings about what their laird was doing.

She wasn’t the first woman who had been taken to satisfy honor…

That thought sent a chill down her back, for it promised her a future that included being nothing more than a possession to a man who had reason to seek vengeance against her.

He’d promised not to force himself on her, but there would be no one to stop him should he change his mind.

She trembled and fought against the rope binding her.

“I’ll give ye a toss-up, lass.”

One of Connor’s burly retainers grasped her waist and lifted her up behind his laird.

“Lift yer arms, Brina, and loop them over my head.”

Now she understood why he had tied her wrists in front of her body. There was even a small amount of rope between her hands so that he could keep her wrapped around his body while they rode.

“I’ll hold on to yer belt.”

He turned his head to look at her. “Ye’ll lose yer grip and fall once yer strength diminishes.”

“I’ll take that risk, or better yet, place me back on my mare.”

She heard him make a soft sound of frustration beneath his breath.

“I will nae. So ye can lift yer arms, or I will have Shawe do it for ye.”

Brina hissed at him. “Ye’re a brute to do such a thing. I’ve never placed my arms around a man, except my father when I was little.”

He rotated his entire body, so that he almost facing her. “Are ye telling me that ye are too timid to touch me, lass?”

“I am nae timid, simply dutiful to my sire’s word and the place that he has said is mine.”

The words were out of her mouth before her wisdom warned her that challenging him wasn’t the best idea. If the man thought her timid, escape might be so much more possible.

“Then place yer hands over my head and prove that the idea of pressing yer body against mine does nae disturb ye, little Brina.”

Disturb her? It did far more than that, but her pride refused to allow her admit it. Saying it would only stroke the man’s ego.

“Ye are acting like a barbarian to want to have me tied about ye like some prize ye took during a raid.”

His eyes darkened. “But I do consider ye a prize worthy of stealing, lass. I wouldn’t be taking ye if I didna think that way.”

His tone had deepened, and he was mocking her, but at the same time tossing a challenge at her that her pride was quick to rise to. She lifted her arms before thinking about it but came to her senses with her hands raised between them. She hesitated, berating herself for so quickly taking the bait he dangled in front of her nose. If she planned to escape from him, it would only be by thinking before she acted.

Connor took advantage of her raised hands and put his hands through hers before she finished thinking. She caught a quick glance at a mocking grin on his lips before he raised his arms up and ducked his head beneath the circle of her bound arms. She had no choice but to rise up off the back of the horse for a moment when he straightened up. He caught her wrists inside his warm hands and pushed them down his body to his waist. She was pulled against his back; her only choice was which on side of his back she wished to place her chin.

She snorted with frustration. That was no true choice, for the scabbard encasing his sword was strapped to his back so that the pommel rose above his left shoulder. She might place her face against that leather, but it was sure to give her bruises and possibly cuts, because the leather was well waxed to keep the sword from rusting in the Scottish weather.

That left her the option of leaning against his right shoulder. His waist was trim, but her arms barely reached around him, and the amount of rope that he’d allowed between her wrists didn’t afford her the ability to keep a few inches between them. Her senses were filled with the scent of his skin and she felt an odd quiver in her belly. Connor urged the stallion forward at almost the same instant.

She heard an owl’s cry, and his belly tightened beneath her hands as he made the noise. Many clans had a cry that was uniquely their own. The clouds were closing over the moon again. By using the owl’s cry, it would be very hard for her father’s men to track them. Connor knew the ground they traveled over well. He guided his horse through the trees, leaving the known roads well behind them.

The motion of the horse bounced her, and she gasped when she landed hard on the most tender part of her body. Connor frowned.

“Hug me tight and move yer hips with the motion of the horse, lass. I’ve seen ye riding astride, so I ken ye can do it well.”

Brina found herself grateful for the darkness, because her cheeks flared with a blush. She was bounced twice more before Connor made a sound of disgust and reached over her back to cup one side of her bottom. She jumped forward before he got the chance to move her to where he pleased. A soft moan issued from her lips, because she was now pressed against him, with nothing save for a few layers of clothing to separate their skin.

“Ye’ve a stubborn nature, Brina.”

“If ye are going to complain about me, sir, I suggest ye return me to my father’s men, for I never promised to be an obedient wife—not to you, that is for certain.”

“A fact that makes me more sure that I’m going to enjoy having ye, lass. Ye’ll not find the Lindseys to be men who force their daughters to be meek. We leave that to the English, since it appears they are no’ men enough to stomach a little spirit in their lasses.”

“Ye are insane.”

“Nay, lass, I’m happily anticipating the next time we wrestle. Hopefully we’ll be alone so that I may spend a little more time investigating yer sweet blushes and what my kisses do to ye.”

She snarled at him. His belly vibrated in response, and she knew that he was chuckling, even if she couldn’t hear the sound because he was looking forward once again. Her fingers curled into talons when she felt it, for her temper was rising again. There was something about the man that brought out anger in her. She was forcing herself to maintain some manner of civility and not dig her hands into his midsection. But the desire was there, and it shocked her with how hot it burned.

There was a softer target just a bit lower…

That thought sprang up in her mind, and it brought a renewed surge of heat to her face.

Oh, she knew full well what was beneath the man’s kilt.

Brina bit her lower lip and chastised herself. She didn’t know well. Not in detail, that was to say. But there had been a few times that she had spied what males had and women didn’t.

It was called a cock.

She’d heard that a time or two, and she also knew that a woman could drive her knee into it if she needed to wound a man.

Her lips twitched up. Her hand had done a fair amount of damage when she had connected with that spot.

Brina flattened her hands again and felt the ridges of muscle hidden behind Connor’s doublet. She frowned when she realized that his name rose so easily into her thoughts. She should be able to think of him in some derogatory manner, such as labeling him her captor or considering him a barbarian. Instead his name paraded so easily into the center of her thoughts.

Yet that was not the only thing she was aware of. Pressed so close against him, she drew the scent of his skin in with each breath she took. It was different than anything else she had ever encountered, because for some reason, she enjoyed it. No matter how much she might try to tell herself that it was wrong to notice that she liked it, she could not change the fact that she did.

He smelled male, and part of her was stirring in response to it, that part she had always been forbidden to listen to. She had hidden it deep beneath her plans for a future where she was a mother superior, and ignored it, but now, lying against his back, she could not stop her mind from noticing all the pleasures that came with the contact. Just as she had enjoyed the kisses he’d pressed against her neck.

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