Page 77 of Highlander's Wild Lass
“Wh-what are ye goin’ to do?” Jacob asked, eyes wide, pulling at the reins to slow the horse down even more.
Celestia leaped from the cart, landing hard on the cobbles.
“Celestia!” Jacob called after her, but she ignored him and waltzed right into Koll’s distillery.
She did not take in much of the environment except for Koll handing a bag of coins over to her delivery driver. “Is this why customers have been complainin’ about their deliveries nae showin’ up?”
Her blood was roaring through her veins, she could near hear it in her ears, and all she could see was the smug face of Ryder Koll. Robbie at least bothered to look guilty.
“Mistress Celestia, I—”
“Shut it,” she said. It was hard to keep her head, she wanted to strangle both men. “Ye, clearly, will nae longer be employed by McLean’s.”
Koll bellowed out a laugh. “I’m sure Robbie doesnae care much, ye were barely payin’ him. Ye think yer husband would give ye an allowance to pay yer workers a livin’ wage.”
She planted her feet on the wooden floor, trying to summon all the courage she could. “Ye are a sad, pitiful man, Mr. Koll. Ye ken that?”
“What?”
“Ye heard me,” she taunted, “Ye cannae make money on yer own with yer own product without stealin’ and exploitin’ others. I almost feel bad for ye.” She shrugged, almost primly.
The vein in Koll’s forehead was popping out and redness was creeping up his neck. He moved toward her, but Celestia halted him with a hand. “I daenae think ye should move another inch, Mr. Koll. If ye are to hurt me in anyway myhusbandwill see that yer imprisoned, at the very least.”
“Ha!” Koll barked. “I’ve been to prison before, Miss McLean.” She knew that he was purposely not calling her by her new, proper title. “He wouldnae be able to keep me there for long.”
Celestia faltered, seeing the maddened gleam in his eye.
“And many blessin’s on yer advantageous marriage to the Chief,” he said with a sneer. “But that doesnae give ye the right to come into my establishment and threaten me with what yer husband can do to me,” he said, taking another step toward her. He swept his arms open and glanced around the room. “He is nae here now, is he?”
In all her rage, she hadn’t stopped to think about the fact that Ryder Koll was bigger, stronger, and did not much care for following the rules. And she was almost sure he was perfectly uninhibited when it came to laying a hand on a woman.
Fear rushed in as he closed the gap between them.
“What can ye truly do to me? What did ye think was goin’ to happen when ye came in here?”
Her hands reflexively went up in front of her and she pushed against his chest. “Stop!”
Koll grabbed hold of her wrists and twisted them away from him, burning her skin as he did. She hissed, trying to tug away from him, but he pushed her back. Celestia stumbled back but found her balance, keeping her eyes on him.
The pain in her wrists sparked a new wave of anger within her, and she stood firm, jutting out her jaw. She had to defend herself against him, she had to fight him off for the future of McLean’s and for her father’s legacy.
“Ye bastard,” she hissed. “There is nothin’ ye can do to scare me off. If Ievercatch ye meddlin’ with my deliveries or my employees or anythin’ at all again, I will end ye.”
“End me?” Koll queried, taking off his tricorne hat. “How are ye goin’ to end me, lass?” His eyes raked over her body and down toward the tight-fighting trousers she wore. “I dinnae see any outline of a weapon on ye. I suppose ye are goin’ to fight me off with yer bare hands?”
Koll brought the hand that held his hat back and hit her across the face with it. The stiff leather stung as it connected with her cheek, and she was sure she felt the edge of it scratch her.
“Ye are nothin’ but a small, weak woman,” Koll said plainly, still advancing on her. “I could kill ye with my bare hands, ye ken.”
“Mr. Koll—I wasnae talkin’ about yer life. I was talkin’ about yer business.”
Koll’s eyes betrayed him, glancing at her neck before he lunged, hands outstretched. Celestia rushed backward and out the front door of the distillery.
“Celestia!”
Her head snapped in the direction of her name. She ran toward Jacob who was standing on the cart, waving frantically. He had blessedly turned the cart around.
He held out a hand and lifted her into the cart. “Yer bleedin’!” he said, rushing to pull his handkerchief from his pocket.
