Why exactly had he been trespassing on Dunleith land again? He frowned as he tried to recall.
“What are ye planning to do with me, Morgann?”
He liked the way his name rolled off her tongue. Sweet like honey, yet spicy and inviting. What was he planning to do with her anyway? Ransom her? Mayhap. Or at least use her as a bargaining tool. Or keep her forever…
He shrugged off the thought. Fool. If he was to ever reveal the truth to his father, he needed every advantage. Even if it meant kidnapping the Laird of Dunleith’s daughter.
“I’ll take ye to Glencolum. We’ll get ye back to full health there.”
She wriggled against his hold but her injuries must have weakened her and now he was ready for a fight, he held her easily.
“Ye were trying to kidnap me!” she exclaimed with a huff of frustration.
He shrugged as he directed the horse northwards to Glencolum Keep and his family lands. Back to safety.
“Ye, Morgann, are naught but a lowlife criminal. A barbarian scoundrel. Return me home, ye bloody fool. Ye’ll be beheaded for this, just ye see. My da will come get me and he’ll kill all of ye. Ye and yer kinsmen. Put me down!”
Morgann grunted as a pointy elbow connected with his stomach. “Keep still. Yer lucky ye didnae kill yerself with that fall. I dinnae want to be returning ye to yer da in pieces.”
In truth, he didn’t want to be returning her harmed at all. The lass was fortunate she’d not done any real damage. A sprained wrist and a bump to the head was naught compared to what could have occurred. But, by God, she was spirited. What happened to the sweet little lassie he’d known? Insulting him? She’d never have done that before.
“Be still,” he tried again as her bottom wriggled against him. He bit back a grunt. He’d not had a woman in far too long. She had no idea what kind of trouble she was getting herself into. “Alana, if ye dinnae be still, I swear I’ll put ye over my knee.”
She gasped. “Ye wouldnae!”
“I would.”
“Ach, I dinnae believe ye. Ye always said a man who beat a woman was no man at all. I remember,” she replied smugly.
Hell, she had him there. What else did the lass remember? What else did she know? He’d not seen her since that night when the tentative peace between the MacRaes and the Campbells had ended. All thanks to him.
She’d asked him how he knew her wrist wasn’t broken. Well, he had seen many injuries far more grievous than a sprained wrist in the years since. The fighting had been brutal and bloody. Now both clans kept their distance, afraid of any more losses. Both too stubborn and proud to even think of forgetting the past hurts. Not that he would ever forgive Dougall Campbell. Aye, he’d left them well enough alone recently but given the chance the man would snatch his lands from underneath him.
Ignoring her pointed statement, he kept his focus on the ragged horizon. And not on the supple little body pressing into him. Nay, he wouldn’t think on that and how perfect she felt.
He gave Caraid a light kick with his heels. He needed to get to Glencolum as quickly as possible. And it was not fear of the Campbells catching up that drove him.
***
Tèile grimaced as she wriggled in the saddle bag of the Highland warrior. It was hot and cramped and certainly not fit of for a faerie. And they were making quick progress. Far too quick. Before long they would be back at the keep and around others. The boorish humans would never allow them a chance for love to blossom. If only she was allowed to meddle with their hearts. Unfortunately human hearts were beyond the reach of faeries. But no matter, she would implant a few dreams next time they slept. First she needed to slow them down.
Peeking out of the top of the leather satchel, she glanced at the skies. No sign of even the slightest rain. The clear sky with its puffy white clouds was sickeningly devoid of interesting weather. Well, she would soon change that. A few muttered words and the grey clouds rolled in.
Ha, let’s see if that would not slow them down.
Chapter Two
Alana watched the sky darken with apprehension. This day had gone from mildly confusing to outrageously strange. Kidnapped, thrown from a horse, kidnapped again. And now it looked as though they were about to be caught up in the most sudden storm she’d ever witnessed in her three and twenty summers.
“Morgann…” She shifted so she could see him out of the corner of her eye.
He glanced down, pinning her with his powerful gaze.
“There looks to be a storm.”
“Aye, I can see that.”
“Should we not stop?”
“And where, pray tell, should we stop?”
“I know not. But I dinnae want to get wet.”