Seduced by the Highlander by Julianne MacLean Read Free Book Online

with blood. Was it his own? One eye was black-and-blue. Had he been stabbed, or shot again?
    “What happened to you?” she asked. “And how did you get here?”
    He gave no answer. He simply pushed the curtain aside, whipped her around, and pressed a knife to her throat.

Chapter Four
     
    Catherine fought against the Highlander’s steely grip. She squirmed and twisted, kicked his shin with her heel, but to no avail. He was like a brick wall behind her, all rigid muscle and incredible brawn.
    “It’s your fault I’m cursed,” he snarled, “and after getting shackled and dragged off to prison, I’m not taking any more chances with you. You’ll not trick me this time.”
    She felt the sharp point of the knife at the base of her throat, and clutched at his muscled forearm. “My cousin was right. You are a brute.”
    “I’m only trying to survive.” His breath was hot and moist in her ear. “Now stop squirming, promise you won’t scream, and I’ll let you go.”
    “I promise.”
    With that, he released her. Catherine swung around to face him in the eerie candlelight. Rubbing a hand over her neck, she fought to catch her breath and calm the frantic beating of her heart.
    “That was unnecessary,” she said. “And why on earth did you come back here? If my cousin sees you, he will shoot you dead on the spot.”
    The Highlander sheathed his knife in his belt. “I’ve been hunting you down for three years, Raonaid. I’ll not give up now.”
    “You are still certain that I am her.”
    “Aye. Whether or not you’re telling the truth about your lost memories I don’t know, but one way or another, you’re going to remember the night you cursed me. I’ll find a way to make it so.”
    She swallowed uneasily. “How do you plan to do that? The doctor has been thoroughly unsuccessful in helping me to remember.”
    “Your doctor doesn’t know how to apply pressure like I do.”
    She mulled over his meaning and spoke with seething hostility. “You’re going to threaten me again with ravishment, and try to frighten the truth out of me. Is that it?”
    “Whatever it takes.”
    She wanted to know the truth herself, desperately so, but she would not stand for abuse.
    Taking a closer look at his black eye and the blood seeping through the front of his shirt, she asked, “How did you escape the prison coach?”
    He put his finger to his lips again, as if he’d heard something. With light, swift movements, he crossed the library and peered out into the corridor. Reassuring himself that no one was about, he answered the question. “They tried to kill me on the way to the village.”
    “Who did?”
    “The magistrate and his thugs. He said they were to make it look like they were just doing their jobs, so they let me out of the coach, loaded their pistols, and told me to run.”
    “And that’s what you did?”
    “Nay, I didn’t run, ” he practically spat. “I kicked the weapons out of their hands and used my fists.”
    She glanced down at his big hands and saw that his knuckles were nicked and bloody. “But there were four of them,” she said with disbelief, not wanting to admit to herself—or to him—that she was impressed by such a feat.
    “Aye,” he said. “Although there might not be quite so many of them now.” He peered out the door again to make sure no one was coming. “I might have killed one or two. Inadvertently.”
    She pointed at the wound on his stomach. “What happened there?”
    He glanced down and seemed to notice for the first time that his shirt was soaked with blood. “ Ah, ballocks. One of them knifed me, but it’s just a scratch. I’ll live.”
    They stood for a moment, staring at each other in the tense, heart-pounding silence, until he cocked his head at her shrewdly.
    “If you’re thinking about screaming and turning me in,” he warned, “you ought to think again. Something’s not right here, witch. I believe they’re using you as much as you are using