Page 13 of The Highlander Who Loved Me
The bushy brows shot up. The barkeep calmly reached beneath the bar. Brandishing a revolver, he regarded MacMasters. Bland, despite the weapon in his hand. “Does the lass speak the truth?”
“You’ve no need to threaten us.” Johanna could no longer carry on with the pretense of a soft Scottish burr. Her performance had been pitiful enough when she didn’t have a gun pointed at the tall, dark man at her side. Now, her act was entirely hopeless.
“I’ve no intention of shootin’ ye.” The barkeep shifted the devil a glance. “But him—he’s another story.”
MacMasters met the barkeep’s threat with a grin Lucifer would envy. “She’s a bit overwrought, my friend. Ye see, her temper’s fiery as her hair.” He leaned over the counter, as if confiding a great secret. “But I’ve got a cure for that, if ye take my meanin’.”
“Aye, that I do.” Amusement flickered in the barkeep’s eyes. He lowered his weapon, but did not stow it behind the counter. “Now, get yer arses out of here.”
Strong, warm fingers closed over hers. This time, she didn’t resist as MacMasters pulled her toward the door. She’d made a choice she was already regretting.
He cut behind a table of boisterous sots, detouring to a darkened corner of the pub. “I’m not goin’ to hurt ye, lass. Ye have to trust me.”
“I have no reason to do any such thing. Whoever you are, leave me be.”
“Ye really don’t want me to do that.” Any trace of humor had been stripped from his features. “Ye’ve put yerself in a bad position. I’ve got to get ye out of here.”
The concern in his tone chipped at her defenses. But she couldn’t allow it to show. She stared at the fingers enveloping hers. “Unhand me.”
He did not budge. “’Tis not a proper place for ye by the light of day, much less at this time of night. Come with me now. I’ll get ye to an inn where ye’ll be well for the night.”
“My safety is not your concern.”
“Those men—they’re not the sort a woman like ye should be dealing with.”
Oh, that was bloody rich. This reckless, brazen, possibly quite dangerous man thought to lecture her on her choice of associates.
“At least you did not call me alassthis time.” Johanna hiked her chin and met his eyes. If only his emerald gaze didn’t draw her in. “For your information, I had urgent business with Mr. Ross. I can only pray your interference will not prove disastrous.”
“Ye dinnae do business with men like Ross and Munro. They’re thieves and ruffians of the worst kind.”
“Unlike you?”
He eyed the case she clutched with a death grip. “If I wanted what was in that bag, do ye think that bony knee of yers would keep me from it?”
“Then what do you want? Why are you following me?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he stared over her shoulder, eyes narrowing. “We’re not alone.”
Johanna stilled. She sensed the towering stranger lurking near the door before she spotted his intimidating form. Or perhaps it was the reek of unwashed sweat that drew her attention. Even the deep-in-their-cups sots seemed to clear a path for the oaf. Dark hair straggled from beneath a cap worn low over his prominent brow. Black garbed his massive frame.
“Munro?” she whispered.
“His brother.” MacMasters pulled her close, his voice low and edged with steel. “If ye want to stay alive, do what I tell ye.”
Chapter Five
Connor recognized the more lethal of the Munro brothers by his pronounced beak. The hawk-nosed thug wasn’t known to work for Cranston. Had someone else dispatched the man to find Johanna Templeton? Hell and damnation, this was a complication Connor hadn’t foreseen.
Hector Munro tapped a fist against his paw of a hand. He was indeed smarter than his brother. But that wasn’t saying much. Munro was a brawler, a hulk who struck first without a thought to his circumstances. If need be, Connor could turn that to his advantage.
The long gun strapped to the lining of his greatcoat and two holstered pistols sat at the ready, but he couldn’t risk gunfire. Not yet. Not while the woman and a tavern full of blokes might be caught in the crossfire.
If Munro had come after Johanna, all hell would break loose once he spotted her. Was the bastard alone? Or were others waiting beyond the doors of the tavern, ready to seize the woman and her blasted satchel?
Keeping his focus on Munro, Connor calculated his options. He’d get Johanna out of the pub. He’d get her to safety. But first, he had to determine what he was up against.
Munro scanned the tavern, the intention in his eyes making it clear he had not ventured into the pub for a pint or a doxy’s favors, but looked to get his hands on something far more valuable.
