Hero in the Highlands by Suzanne Enoch Read Free Book Online Page B

him was nothing new, but he abruptly realized that it had been a while. As he reached around her to lower the rope to her waist, his hand brushed across one breast, leaving a muddy handprint. Eyes darker than fine, melted chocolate glared daggers at him as she twisted, and he fought the unexpected, heady urge to bend down and kiss her on those fine, full lips currently scowling at him.
    Gabriel shook himself. Most of the rescues he performed involved weapons, and there was nothing soft and warm about them. He had no time for lust in the middle of a mud hole. “Slow and steady, Sergeant. Pull.”
    â€œStay clear of the rope, Major,” Adam returned from up on the bank.
    â€œDon’t fret, miss. I’ll have you out in a moment,” he said, as calmly as he could. Then the rope went taut, pulling her back hard against him. With a grunt he lost his footing and nearly went in over his head. Grabbing onto her, he steadied himself, then had to deal with her squirming in his arms like a landed catfish.
    If all rescues resulted in him having a woman in his arms, he wouldn’t mind performing more of them. Even the thrashing felt … invigorating. She might claim not to need a rescue, but any damned fool could see that she required help. He hoped that once they got out of the mud she’d be grateful for the assistance. That dark, dusky hair needed fingers run through it, and someone would have to peel her out of that clinging, muddy gown.
    â€œDamn ye,” she snapped, catching him with a flailing smack to the shoulder, but the rope held as Jack dragged the two of them backward toward the bank.
    She stumbled again, and he swept both arms around her ribs. Her breasts seemed magnets to his hands, but that was hardly his fault. And he refused to feel guilty for enjoying it. He was performing a good deed, after all. “All safe now, miss,” he said in her ear, setting her upright again. Abruptly she jabbed her elbow backward into his ribs. “Damnation,” he grunted, pinning her folded arms against her chest in a hard bear hug and beginning to think she might be partly insane—a shame considering how pretty she was.
    â€œI didnae ask fer yer aid, Sassanach,” she retorted, staggering free as soon as they reached the bank and he half tossed her to solid ground. She loosened the rope enough that she could lift it over her head, then whipped around to face him again. “Now I have to go back in for the beastie, ye amadan .”
    She had a surprisingly delicate face, he decided, especially considering the curses spewing from her attractive mouth. “The cow?” He’d half forgotten Sergeant Kelgrove, much less the heifer.
    The lass shook mud from her arms. “Aye, the cow,” she stated, still not sounding the least bit grateful. “Why the devil do ye ken I went wading in the first place? Fer a bath?”
    â€œI’ll see to the animal.” Her black gaze held his for a heartbeat, then he wrenched his attention away to take the rope from her hands and push past her.
    â€œI dunnae ken what’s so amusing, Sassenach,” she shot after him, annoyance and affront in every slender ounce of her.
    Amusing? He was grinning, he realized. “I didn’t expect my day to include rescuing lasses or cows,” he returned, wading back into the muck. “Does she have a name?” he asked, dropping the modified noose around the animal’s wide-spaced horns. The beast had a definite quizzical look to her, with one horn curved up and the other turned down. Poor thing. Likely no one took her seriously with a permanent jester’s hat on her head.
    â€œWe call her ‘Cow.’ Because she’s a cow,” the young woman returned, in the same biting tone she’d used before. “Do the Sassenach name their milk cows, then? Or is it that ye think all Highlanders have quaint names for their beasts? Ye already think us fools and idiots