Claimed by the Highlander by Julianne MacLean Read Free Book Online Page B

that she is alive and well, I will not cross you again. I will do whatever you ask.”
    A smug grin graced his lips as he kissed the edges of her neckline. “Ah, lassie—you’ve shown me twice today that you have a very soft and pretty Achilles’ heel. Just the sort of thing a ruthless warrior looks for in a situation like this. A chink in the armor, a crack in the gate…”
    “What are you saying?”
    His lips brushed over hers. “You make it almost too easy. You’re taking all the fun out of it.”
    “Fun for you, perhaps. Not for me.”
    The Lion rose up on both arms and looked down at her in the shimmering morning light that was streaming in through the windows.
    “You and your precious, holy virtue,” he said. “You really ought to give it up.”
    Gwendolen struggled to think straight. “Wait … What do you mean, a chink in my armor?”
    He kissed her on the mouth again, and never had she imagined a man’s lips and body could evoke such delirious sensation. It was like drinking liquid fire, or falling from a cloud.
    “What did you mean?” she repeated, and he rolled to the side.
    He rested his cheek on a hand, and his eyes chilled over with frost. “What I was trying to say, lassie, is that if you cross me one more time, it’s not you I’ll be locking up. It will be your beloved mother.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    He spoke with malice. “You’re too easy to read, and far too self-sacrificing. I believe you would have died for your clan if I’d pushed you too far in the hall. And look at you now, playing the part of a willing bed partner, opening to me like a soft spring blossom, when we both know you’d rather shoot me dead than let me slide my hand up under your skirts.”
    “No,” she replied ridiculously, “that’s not entirely true.”
    He slid off the bed and tucked his shirt back into his kilt, then pulled the knife from his boot and pointed the sharp blade at her.
    “We had an agreement,” he said, “and I’ll honor my word. I’ll not claim your virginity until we are wed, and your mother will have her jewels and sit at our table. I’ll give equal rights to all MacEwens who pledge allegiance to me tonight, as long as you hold true to your end of the bargain.”
    Gwendolen leaned up on both elbows and struggled to control the ragged pace of her breathing. “And what did I promise … exactly?”
    Lord help her, she couldn’t remember. Her brain was addled. Her thoughts had been stomped on, like grapes to wine. She felt completely inebriated.
    “You gave me your word that you would be amiable toward me from this day forward. You will not defy me, nor will you resist or dispute my authority over Kinloch. You will support my rule, both publicly and privately. And when your brother returns, your loyalty will rest with me , as your husband. Not him.”
    And this meant he would not bed her? He would not force himself upon her? It was the only condition she seemed able to focus upon.
    “Are we agreed?” he asked.
    She quickly nodded.
    “Good. Obedient at last. Now get your skinny bones out of that bed, woman. You’re needed in the bailey. There are wounded men to attend to.” With that he turned and walked out the door.
    Gwendolen sank back down onto the bed and exhaled sharply. He had read her like a book just now, and used all her fears and weaknesses against her. Clearly, he was not an ignorant brute. He was clever and cunning, and had a quick mind for strategic warfare, even in the bedroom.
    But she, too, was an intelligent woman. Her father, God rest his soul, had encouraged her to use her brain. She would therefore spend the rest of the day thinking about what he had shown her. He, too, would be a book she would read—and by tonight, she would have him deciphered and decoded, and then she would begin her own strategic battle for survival.

Chapter Four
     
    The Great Hall that evening pulsed with the laughter of men, underscored by the spirited music from a fiddle player