Page 8 of Captured By the Cruel Highlander
“Like what? Leavin’ me in yer dungeons to rot?”
“Nay—makin’ ye me wife.”
4
“Ye have lost yer mind,” the hellion said as Adam held her tightly to his chest.
He didn’t want her to run away again. The water from her skirts was soaking through his kilt. She must be cold, but she hadn’t said a word about it.
“Am I so much worse than James Stewart?”
“Ye are the same.”
Adam glowered at her. “Ye watch yer tongue.”
“Or what?” she asked sharply. “I have nay reason to trust ye. Ye’re just a man who interrupted me weddin’ and took me captive. Ye are nay better than him.”
“Ye’ll learn to trust me, lass, but ye need to do as I say for the time bein’.”
As Adam adjusted his grip on Buck’s reins, the horse stepped forward, and he felt his hoof slip out from under him. Buck snorted as his leg sank into a deep hole in the ground, and his front legs tipped forward violently.
“For the love of peat!” Adam shouted as the hellion jumped forward over the horse’s head, landing deep into the water again. She waded away just as slowly as before.
It was becoming a real nuisance, having to follow her, but as he watched, he was alarmed to see her find her footing only a few feet further ahead and start sprinting wildly across the moors.
Why is she actin’ like a demon when we have the same goal?
It took precious seconds for Buck to free himself. The mud was thick and gelatinous, and his hoof caught in it so fast that Adam had to hop down, soiling his own boots, to free him.
Once Buck was free, Adam leaped back into the saddle and pursued the lass. He was impressed by her determination. She’d even had the good sense to go toward a makeshift path in the distance, but the ground wasn’t made for running, and she still wore that ridiculous dress. The back of it was black with mud.
He couldn’t help running his eyes over her figure as he followed her at a canter. Her long, dark hair fell almost to her hips. Shewas small in stature and very petite, but her body was a pleasing hourglass shape. Adam had enjoyed having her pressed against him on the horse.
Speaking of Buck, he appeared to be just as eager to get to the hellion as Adam was. The horse had clearly taken a liking to her, and as they came alongside her, he snorted happily.
She was tired now. The constant pull of the mud wasn’t helping her, and there were spots of it flecked over her face. She had a lovely complexion, skin like white marble. Her hair was wild and curling about her head now, her wide green eyes staring ahead of her, resolutely not looking up at him as he came level with her.
She looked like a goddess drowning in mud, and he couldn’t stand it any longer.
“Come here, ye devil woman!” He leaned down from the saddle and heaved her up with one arm, pulling her forcibly out of the mud and tugging her legs across him.
Adam pulled her roughly against his body, holding her tightly as she gasped for breath. His back was tense as his arm wrapped around her, and he looked down into her fearful gaze.
“Ye will be silent and sit where I put ye, is that understood?”
The journey through the mud had clearly tired her, and she seemed to have lost some of her fire. All he received in responsewas a silent nod. He kept his arm tight around her nevertheless and gathered her skirts into his fist.
Looking out over the horizon, he knew that they had a long journey ahead of them, and he couldn’t have her pinned to his side like a prisoner the whole way. They would need to find a compromise off the horse, or else she would be jumping into the marshlands every few feet.
“We’ll stop in a while,” he growled. “Ye jump down again and ye’ll meet me dirk the next time.”
The alarm on her face was evident, and Adam was content that at least, for now, the threat would keep her where she was. His gut clenched at the thought of following through on it, and he frowned at the strange feeling.
When he and his man-at-arms had first discussed interrupting James Stewart’s wedding, they had planned to injure the bride and take her captive. Looking down at the woman in his arms, he felt ashamed of the idea. He had seen the fear in her eyes—she was surviving on luck and courage.
Despite his warnings, a fierce wish to protect her rose within him. He had felt it even as he’d lifted her over his shoulder in the kirk. There was a vulnerability about her that intrigued him. It didn’t surprise him that James Stewart had dragged her to the altar with threats.
No woman would willingly take that bastard for a husband.
