Chapter 10 #2
However, a bit of her bravado faltered under the ferocious onslaught of fiery rage.
He really was quite menacing. She thought for a moment about returning to the palace, giving his anger time to dissipate, but she had a feeling he would follow her anyway.
No, it was best not to show weakness, Alex would only smell blood.
Stiffening her spine, she informed the guardsmen that they would take refreshment at what she now realized was an inn.
Meg rode into the yard, pretending not to notice the fierce glare of the man waiting for her.
He looked different. It took her a moment to realize that he was dressed as he’d been the first time she’d seen him—in the traditional garb of a Highlander.
He wore a fine woolen plaid of the softest blues and greens over a saffron linen tunic, secured at the waist with a thick leather belt and impressive dirk attached at his side.
After weeks of being surrounded by colorful silks and satins, the breacan feile and leine that had fallen out of favor among the Lowlanders was a powerful reminder of home.
But it wasn’t longing for home that was twisting her stomach in knots.
It was the sheer magnetism of the man standing before her.
Her mouth went dry just looking at him. Every inch the fierce, battle-hardened warrior who had rescued her, he looked big, strong, and heart-stoppingly male.
It was hard to believe this was the same man who’d beaten her at chess a few hours ago.
Perhaps it was that very dichotomy that drew her. And gave her reason to hope.
As she moved closer, she realized her error. Alex wasn’t just angry, he was enraged. He strode toward her, every muscle of his body taut, taking the bridle in hand as if to forestall any thoughts of escape.
Gathering the reins of her courage, Meg lifted her chin and met his withering stare. “Laird MacLeod, what a surprise to find you here.”
Alex didn’t bother to respond; instead he turned to the young clansman at his side and said in a hard, clipped voice, “Robbie, take these men inside and get them some refreshment. Mistress Mackinnon and I have some things we need to discuss.” His eyes fell on her, billowing her with heat. “In private.”
When it looked as though her guardsmen were about to argue, Meg waved them inside, assuring them she would follow in a moment.
She couldn’t help noticing that the young warrior Robbie was gazing at her as if he felt sorry for her.
As she watched them leave, a chill swept over her despite the warmth of the midsummer sun.
Hesitantly, her gaze shifted back to Alex.
Her pulse quickened. They were all alone.
Without a word, his hands circled her waist and he lifted her effortlessly from the saddle as if she weighed no more than a child.
For a moment, she was pressed against him, and the familiar rush of pleasure softened her limbs.
But she barely had time to savor the sensation before he’d set her firmly away from him, as if he didn’t trust himself not to take out his anger on her person in an entirely different manner.
It shocked her to realize that the idea of his hot, violent passion didn’t frighten her as it should.
His voice cracked like a whip. “In the stables. Now.”
Meg bristled at his tone, digging in her heels. “Here will be fine.”
A dangerous glint sparked in his eyes. “Either you can go on your own two feet or I will carry you there myself. But I don’t think you will like how I do it.”
Outraged, Meg pursed her lips together and walked as proudly as she could into the stables. She was relieved to see a couple of stable lads tending to a massive black horse that she’d seen once before. Her relief, however, was short-lived.
“Leave us,” Alex ordered.
The lads took one look at him and scampered out as fast as they could.
Chivalry was truly dead, she thought, watching them leave without a backward glance.
As soon as the lads were gone, Alex rounded on her, his eyes pinning her to the ground.
But he didn’t touch her. She almost wished he would grab her arms and shake her; the dead calm on his face was infinitely more disconcerting.
Unconsciously, she took a step back. “I warned you not to follow me. If you were a man, you’d be dead right now. ”
From the flatness of his tone, Meg did not doubt that he meant it. “Well, it’s a good thing for me, then, that I’m a woman.”
Apparently, now was not a good time for sarcasm. His eyes flared, and Meg could tell by the way the muscles twitched in his forearms that he was holding himself by a very thin thread. A very thin thread indeed.
“You test my patience, little one. Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to play with fire?” His voice went deceptively soft. “You might get burned.”
“You are making far too much of this,” she said nervously. “I only thought to ride through the park, I had no intention of following you. But then I saw you, and … well, you can hardly blame me for being curious. You made no mention of riding today.”
“I was not aware that I had to explain my comings and goings to you, Mistress Mackinnon.”
Meg felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. He was right, of course. He had no obligation to invite her along or inform her of his plans. Nor did she miss the formal mode of address. He was trying to put distance between them.
“You should never have left the palace,” he continued. “I thought you agreed to have care until the men who attacked you are caught.”
Was part of his anger because he was concerned for her safety?
“I brought an escort. Surely you would not see me chained to the palace for no good reason?”
His nostrils flared. “Almost being killed isn’t reason enough? And I told you that I would watch over you. You should not have left without telling me.”
A sugary smile curled her lips. “And if you had told me of your plans, I would have.”
He took a step closer. “Don’t push me, Meg.”
She didn’t like being put on the defensive.
He had some explaining to do as well. “And what of you, Alex? Did you think that I would not remember your man Robbie?” She waved her hand toward his horse.
“Or that terrifying beast over there? It was you in the forest that day. You lied to me. And I want to know why.”
His jaw locked in stubborn silence.
Meg’s emotions bubbled dangerously close to the surface. She wanted him to trust her. To give proof to the connection that had grown between them. She wanted some sign that her feelings were not the only ones in jeopardy. “What is it that you are not telling me?”
She took a few cautious steps toward him and gently laid her hand on his arm, feeling the tension coil under her fingertips.
She stood so close, she could see the faint hint of stubble on his chin and the telltale pulse in his neck.
The scar that crossed his brow seemed more prominent.
And menacing. Yet she felt a strange urge to trace it with her fingertip.
“It has nothing to do with you,” he said tightly.
“Then why can’t you tell me—” Her voice broke. “Please, Alex.”
Something in his expression shifted. The fury had been tempered by something that she could describe only as longing. She could see the tumult in his gaze. Deep inside, there was an internal battle being waged that she did not understand.
“Why can’t you let it go?” His voice was strangely hoarse.
She couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t admit it even to herself. She couldn’t let it go because she didn’t want to make the wrong decision, and she’d begun to feel that the only right decision was standing before her.
“Do you really want me to?” she asked softly.
He knew what she was asking. She could see it on his face. She waited, not wanting to acknowledge how much his answer mattered. How much she wanted him to acknowledge what had grown between them.
“Yes, damn it. I want you to leave me alone.”
Her heart plummeted. He didn’t want her. Oh God, she was a fool. Chasing after a man who wanted nothing to do with her. Stricken, she turned away, not wanting him to see how much his rejection stung.
He swore. And before she realized what was happening, she was in his arms and his mouth fell on hers with a savage hunger that belied his indifference and took her breath away.
Meg was relentless, pushing him in a way that no one ever had before. Pushing him until he snapped.
From the moment she’d ridden into the inn yard, head held high with that adorable stubborn tilt to her tiny pointed chin, he’d been waging an internal battle. A battle between desire and reality. He wanted what he could not have.
It hurt just to look at her. The sun drenched her hair with flecks of gold light and flooded her translucent skin with a gentle pink warmth.
Artfully arranged chestnut curls framed her moss green eyes to perfection.
But it was her mouth that drove him wild.
The memory of her honey soft sweetness laid siege to the fortress of his restraint.
Still, his anger held him in check. She’d followed him and interfered in his mission once again. He intended to be harsh, to ensure that she put an end to her foolish quest to discover his true purpose. With one wrong word, she could destroy everything.
But the hurt in her eyes undid him.
For a moment, he’d wanted to tell her why it was so important to him. Why he needed to do this. Why he wasn’t for her. But for her own sake, as well as his, he could not embroil her in his scheme. A scheme that would brand him a traitor.
She thought that he was fighting for gold, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He was fighting for justice. For a way of life. For the land held by their clans for generations. But fighting was all that he knew how to do. He couldn’t give her what she wanted.