Murdoch could not believe his luck. He had wanted to speak to Keira but privately, so he had made for the little glade where she practiced her archery, hoping to find her there. However, he was disappointed to find that she was nowhere to be found. Then, as he rounded a bend in the path, he saw her. His heartskipped a beat as he watched her approaching, and the animal part of him responded at once, stiffening as he saw her.
She was walking with her usual graceful, swaying gait, but her gaze was on the ground, and she was absently kicking at leaves and pine needles as she walked, looking as though she was in a daydream. Her face looked peaceful, and he wondered what she was thinking about. Was she as troubled as he was? All at once, she looked up.
Keira had been walking along, trying to think happy thoughts, when she looked up and suddenly found herself face-to-face with Murdoch. She jumped back with a startled cry, and he took a step forward with his arms outstretched to steady her.
Then, remembering what had happened last time, he stood back and watched her regain her balance before opening his mouth to speak again.
Abruptly, Keira turned away as her courage completely deserted her, but she found her arm suddenly gripped by a large, strong hand. Its grasp was so powerful that no matter how hard she pulled, she could not free herself.
She met Murdoch’s eyes furiously.
“What do you want?” she demanded, her eyes blazing with rage.
14
For a moment, Murdoch could say nothing as Keira’s blue eyes looked up at him angrily. His own anger rose to meet hers, and just for a second he contemplated shaking her until her teeth rattled, but in spite of the job he did, he was not a violent man, especially not to women. In his eyes, women were the better half of humankind, and he loved everything about them.
He took a deep breath and stepped back, then noticed the marks his fingers had left on Keira’s wrists.
“I am sorry, mistress,” he said gently. “I did not mean to hurt you. Please forgive me.”
He remembered the marks on her neck, which she had obviously covered with some cosmetic or other, and felt wretched to think that she was probably comparing him to her father.
Keira snatched her arm back, rubbing her wrist.
“What do you want?” she demanded again, more harshly if that were possible. “You have clearly not yet told my father what happened, I see, otherwise he would have punished me by now. Why not?”
Murdoch sighed and looked at his feet, and Keira watched the shadow of his wheat-colored lashes as they dropped over hishigh cheekbones. Although he angered her beyond bearing, he was still the most attractive man she had ever seen, in a ruggedly handsome way. His face was the epitome of male beauty, and he did things to her that no man before had ever done.
She longed to run her hands through the thick fair hair at the back of his head and rub her face against the golden bristles on his cheeks. She wondered what it would feel like to have his arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly pressed against his body. She had a feeling that she might wish to stay there forever.
She felt herself moisten, felt the sweet ache between her legs that heralded her arousal. Damn. She simply could not stand the effect he was having on her. She felt weak and out of control, yet he looked so hard and masculine that he could have pushed her over with a finger. She had to remind herself that he was the enemy.
“You are right,” he said, nodding. “I could have told your father any time I wanted to.”
He sat down with his back against a tree trunk and motioned for Keira to do the same.
She hesitated for a second, then did likewise, settling herself against another tree a good distance away so that she was facing him.
“But I did not, and neither am I going to,” he said firmly as he looked her squarely in the eye.
“Why not?” Keira was puzzled. “You caught me red-handed committing a crime. Do you not think it is your duty to report me? Or have you decided to make me buy your silence?”
He stared at her. This time it was his turn to be mystified.
“I don’t understand,” he said, frowning in puzzlement.
Keira laughed. “Oh, come on, Captain Holmes. You are an intelligent man. Please do not pretend ignorance.”
“Please speak plainly, Mistress McTavish.” His voice sounded irritated. “I do not understand you.”
“Are you not going to try to blackmail me?” she asked baldly.
He looked at her in horror. “No!” He was furious. “It never even occurred to me to do such a thing.”
“Then what do you want of me?” she asked, shrugging. “I have nothing else to give.”
Then she thought of something and swallowed nervously. Her body?