Highland Captive by Hannah Howell Read Free Book Online Page A

Mengue’s whore. Her youth, lack of wedding
ring and position indicated that she was very probably a virgin which also
pleased him. For once, he not only wanted to be the first, he avidly desired
it.
    The
problem, he mused, would be in getting her into his bed. She was small and
delicate but recent incidents had clearly revealed her strength and courage.
Seduction might take a long time for he sensed that she had the wit to see
through such a ploy and he could not trust his patience. Not only the rules he
enforced on his men stopped him from taking her but an absolute loathing of
forcing an unwilling woman. To get her into his bed, he needed something to
bargain with, a choice to give her that would, hopefully, cause her to come to
him with at least a token willingness.
    Studying
her, he tried to find one particular attribute of hers that could account for
his strong desire. Her figure was not without draw, especially her exquisite
breasts, yet he had always preferred a fuller shape. Her face was lovely, but
he had known many as lovely, even lovelier although her eyes, with their
extremely long and dark lashes, he deemed peerless. Delicately arched brows, a
small straight nose, and the way her small oval face tapered into a stubborn
chin had their appeal but should not cause a man to ache with need as he was.
    Suddenly
he smiled to himself. He was searching for what could not be seen with the
eyes. Although no romantic, he knew it was neither face nor form that caused a
man to forsake all other women for one woman or stirred a desire that demanded
satisfaction. In the short time he had known her, Aimil Mengue had revealed
several characteristics he had begun to think women no longer possessed. Skill
in riding and consideration for her mount came to mind for he was first and
foremost a knight, a man of battle who knew how valuable a good horse could be.
She had courage amply displayed by her attempt to escape and her refusal to
quail before him. He had felt her strength when he had wrestled with her. Her
intervention in Alex’s case had shown she had a sense of justice. He was eager
to discover other facets to her character.
    “Will
ye send my father the ransom demands now, Sir MacGuin?” she asked, breaking
into his musings. “He must be sore worried by now.”
    “Aye,
it must seem as if ye have been swallowed up by the earth itself. My brother
should have at least sent your father word that ye were held here. I must
assess your value however,” he added. He then watched her intently as he said, “There
will be enough time before the ransoming is done for ye to turn your horse to
my hand.”
    “Nay,
there will never be enough time for that.”
    “Lass,
I intend to have that horse.”
    “Weel,
ye just try but ye will gain no aid from me. Elfking is mine. He was born
second in a twin birth and was weak and looked runty. He would have been left
to die as such beasts are but I took him. I handfed him the mare’s milk his
stronger sibling denied him and I raised him. He is mine and there is naught
that will change that, not even the great Black Parlan himself,” she sneered.
    “Ye
have a knack for trying a man’s patience.”
    “So
it has been said.” She watched him as she ate some of her food.
    Parlan
leaned back in his chair. “So ye willnae help me to win the stallion’s favor.”
    “Nay,
I willnae help ye to steal my horse.” She thought the way he quirked his brow
over one eye an impressive gesture then blushed and stared at her ale when
barely-stifled laughter and Parlan’s grin told her she had spoken her thoughts
aloud.
    “Thank
ye, mistress.”
    “Ye
are verra welcome,” she grumbled with a distinct lack of grace while wondering
if she would ever learn to control her tongue.
    “Ye
do ken that I can keep the beast whether ye do as I ask or not.”
    “Aye,
but t’will gain ye naught. He will come to me as soon as he is able.”
    “There
are ways to secure even that brute.”
    “But
weel secured