Page 84 of Tempting the Highland Devil
“Are ye alone?” she questioned. “Where are we? Where are yer men?”
“Ye are in O’Neil, me lady,” he said to her, the gleam in his eyes deepening. Yvaine held her skirts as she glanced around them again. Her pulse picked up a strange rhythm, and when her eyes landed on his again, a shiver raced up her spine.
“Ye are safe here with me, me lady. I will take ye to me castle, and ye willnae need to worry about getting’ hurt ever again.”
Yvaine backed away instinctively when he tried to reach for her again. A frown smeared her features, and she shook her head without thinking. “I should send word to me husband. He will be searchin’ the entire…”
Yvaine trailed off when she recalled Arran had travelled to O’Neil in search of their enemy.How long have I been missing? And how did Laird O’Neil find me?
Now wary of him, she cleared her throat and tried to sound composed as she spoke. “Me husband is out here in O’Neil. Did ye happen to see him by chance?”
The sinister grin spreading out on his face chilled Yvaine to her bones. It sent the message of his intentions to her even before he spoke.
Yvaine acted the second the shot of panic raced through her. She thrust her knee forward, hoping to collide with his groin, but he moved first, dodged her blow, and yanked her to him forcefully by her shoulders.
“Dinnae dare try to run from me,” he said in a harsh tone as his blue eyes turned steelier than ever, and closed over hers. “I dinnae wish to hurt ye, me lady. I simply wish to take ye to yer husband—the one ye seem to so desperately want.”
She whimpered as his fingers bit into her arm from his tight grip.
“Please,” Yvaine pleaded.
“I will take ye to him,” Laird O’Neil continued then pulled her along with him. She struggled to no avail. His death grip on her arm stayed constant even as she pleaded with him to let her go.
“Please let me go…Please…”
“Shut it,” he ordered then smacked her across the cheek once. “I have done everythin’ to protect ye. Every time I sent men to bring ye to me, I gave them orders to never harm ye. I should have nay protected ye and let them do whatever they would like with ye.”
The snarl on his lips showed his anger. Yvaine felt like the tightness in her chest would crush her and make it impossible for her to breathe. She whimpered when they arrived at a cottage. To their left was a river, and she saw the lifeless bodies of MacGregor soldiers scattered across their path.
Bile rose in Yvaine’s throat, and tears blinded her vision as they made it to the cottage’s door.
“Ye want to see yer laird desperately? Here…I will show ye what he has been up to since he came to my clan.”
He shoved the door open hard and dragged her inside the cottage.
The first thing Yvaine spotted was the tousled bedding, and the naked bodies curled on top the sheets.
“Arran?” she cried out as she stared at him. The naked woman lying by his side slowly sat up, and her lips curved into a wide grin as she stared right at Yvaine with a vixen smile.
“Did ye think he loved ye? He doesnae love ye, me lady, and he has failed to care for ye. This is the man he is, and he willnae stop cravin’ the women at the inns that he is used to.
“Every time he travels, he spends the night at an inn with a different woman each time. This isnae a lie, me lady. The entire Highlands kens of his character…Ye ken that he is nay better than a scoundrel and the son of a mad man. Why would ye want a man like that?”
Yvaine forcefully pulled her arm out of his grip and struck his cheek hard. “Bastard,” she cursed. Laird O’Neil’s head turned to one side at the impact, and he did not move for a long moment.
Tears strolled down her cheeks, and she shook her head. “Nay,” Yvaine muttered. “This isnae true,” she continued, her voice gaining courage as she faced Laird O’Neil who had released her. Her rage blinded her. “Ye are despicable. What did ye do to him? What have ye done?” she screamed, her throat tearing up as more sobs fell from her eyes.
Even in the chaos, Arran still lay unmoving on the bed, and Yvaine feared he was no longer breathing.
Yvaine tried to run to him, but Laird O’Neil grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back to him. Her back was plastered against his chest, and she whimpered.
“It doesnae matter what I did to him. He will be dead by night fall anyway, and ye will be my wife tonight. I dinnae need any dowry or consent. Ye are mine now.”
“Nay,” she screamed as he dragged her out of the cottage, then ordered his men to kill Arran. His horse had arrived with his men outside, and he lifted her off the ground, tied her to the horse, and stuffed her mouth with a filthy cloth.
Yvaine kept on sobbing as he mounted his horse and rode away with her.Arran,she thought, hoping he was alive, and that rescue would come.
If he was dead, then she did not want to live either. She could not live without him, and she would never let Laird O’Neil have his way.
