Read Highlander Undone (Highland Bound Book 5) Online
Authors: Eliza Knight
She stilled in her writhing, eyes locking on his and a hatred so potent in their depths, he could nearly feel the singe. “Only a monster would steal an unsuspecting woman from her first spring ride.”
Malcolm shrugged. “I doubt that.”
“Tell me your name,” she said. “Ye already know mine.”
“My name is not important,” he said, growing irritated with the back and forth. Didn’t she know that when taken prisoner, a lass should keep her pretty mouth shut?
“Then I shall call ye Satan, for the verra devil ye are.”
That made Malcolm laugh. He’d been called many things in his life, devil even one of them, but none had gone so far as to call him Satan. “Perhaps Lucifer would be better to your taste, my lady?” he asked.
Hearing his name, Malcolm’s horse pricked his ears and let out a little snort.
The skirmish was well behind them. His men were under strict orders not to take any of her foolish guards’ lives, simply to render them unconscious, or let them go. They’d put up a good fight to keep their lady safe, but none of them had dealt with the Dragon, fiercest guard on the Bruce’s council.
The lass planted her cheek against his thigh and for a minute he feared she’d bite him. Above the sound of his horse’s hoof beats, he could swear he heard her praying.
He should put her at ease, or at least attempt to do so. Likely she was frightened to death, and if he were willing to admit it, having grown up with a sister himself, he’d hate it if someone were to steal her away.
Malcolm awkwardly patted her back, but the move only sent the woman into another tailspin of bucking.
“Dinna touch me!” she shouted.
Lord help him, this was going to be a very long ride.
“My lady, let me assure ye, I dinna intend do ye harm. I am simply a messenger.”
“Messengers dinna kill people and abduct ladies!” Her voice was filled with venom and once more she’d twisted to stare at him, catching him off guard with just how lovely she was.
“This is true, I am a little more than a messenger.” He left out the plain truth of not having killed her men either. Perhaps fear of such would keep her quiet.
“What do ye intend to do with me, if ye didna have killing in mind? Ye want to rape me? I’ll scratch your eyes out!” Without a second’s pause she bit him, planting her solid teeth into the bare flesh above his knee and sinking deep.
Malcolm roared, his leg muscles flexing. Used to his master’s movements when in battle, Lucifer was immediately on guard for who had attacked, and when his ears piqued toward the lass in Malcolm’s lap, he bucked. Lady Munro wobbled on Malcolm’s legs, and he kept his grip on her until Lucifer reared his head back, smacking into Malcolm’s forehead and then bucking mightily once more.
“
Arrêt
!” Malcolm shouted for his horse to stop in French, the language he’d used to train his mount so that he’d not become confused on the battlefield with a thousand other commands in Gaelic or English.
Lucifer ceased his wild behavior but it was too late.
The two of them toppled off the horse.
Malcolm managed to land somewhat gracefully with one foot and one knee on the ground, and the lass just a few feet away from him, wasted no time in scrambling to her feet and running.
Malcolm rolled his eyes and commanded his horse to stay put. “
Rester
!”
The damned animal contentedly munched on grass as if nothing had happened. He’d have to send the beast back into the ring for this. Never had his mount betrayed him as he’d just done. It was
her
fault. Malcolm faced the scrambling lass. She ran, but continued to falter in her steps as she turned to see if he was coming. Had no one ever taught her to simply run from an enemy and not look back?
He took off at a steady clip toward her, each of his long strides easily taking up two or three of her own, and then he had her, wrapping his hands around her tiny waist and hauling her back against his body.
“Use your teeth on me again and I’ll bend ye over my knee to smack your arse until it is red as a rose.”
She gasped, and slammed her head back, missing his chin by an inch. She jabbed her elbow against his ribs, and he grunted at the pain of it, then circled both arms around her, pinning her arms at her side. She pushed her hips back, bucking, the soft curve of her arse deliciously melding with his groin. Malcolm groaned. The lady heaved her breaths, each rise and fall causing the undersides of her breasts to brush his arms.
He gritted his teeth.
Since meeting the lass less than an hour before, he’d become more intimately acquainted with her breasts and rear than he had with a woman in awhile.
Why had he waited so long? The torment of his decision to focus on his duties to king and country instead of more pleasurable pursuits was coming back to haunt him.
And just like that, Malcolm was certain he had a way of calming her—well, perhaps not calming her, but getting her to stop her movements. He leaned low, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.
“Cease this at once,” he hissed. “Else I make good on the promises ye keep making.”
“Promises?” she gasped.
“Aye. Ye are merciless in your desire for me. The way ye move against me. Ye taunt me, lass, and I am but a man.” He clenched his teeth to keep from laughing.
The lass stiffened instantly letting loose a shocking gasp. “I have made no such promises! I seek only to get away from ye.”
“Ye will not succeed.”
She blew out a long ragged breath, perhaps resigned to that truth. “Why have ye taken me? Where are we going?”
“Do ye promise to cooperate if I tell ye?” He kept his arms wrapped around her, his lips on her ear.
“I canna make such a promise. Is it not the will of a prisoner to escape?”
“’Haps when ye hear ye’ll think differently.”
“I doubt it.”
Malcolm shrugged, picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. “When ye do feel inclined to cooperate, I’ll fill ye in.”
“Put me down!” She beat her fists against his back.
Malcolm’s patience was growing thin. He slapped her bottom and called out, “Behave, wench, else I make good and gag ye and tie up your wrists.”
She stopped moving. And he thought he’d gotten lucky, except when he planted her on his horse he could see the track of tears staining her cheeks.
He blew out a frustrated breath and climbed behind her, feeling marginally guilty for being such a lout. “I am taking ye to Kildrummy Castle.”
“Kildrummy?”
“Aye.” Why the hell did he feel the need to tell her that? Maybe because those tears had been real and he didn’t fancy himself an abductor. Aye, that was essentially what he was, but in truth, he was a warrior and a damned good one. He honored the weak and protected them. That didn’t mean he couldn’t exact punishment when it was warranted. But the lady had done nothing to warrant a punishment. She’d simply planned to marry a traitor. And god help her if she knew that.
“Is that not the current seat of the Bruce?”
“Aye.” He blew out a breath having somewhat of an idea where she was going with this. She’d be disappointed when she found out the Bruce had been part of the plan.
“I am going to tell him of your treatment of me!”
“Your threat will do little good.”
She was silent a moment, and he hoped to get in a few miles of peace before she spoke again.
A hope that was quickly dashed.
“Please, ye canna take me. Not without my son! He will be panicked when I do not return and he’s already lost enough in his short life.”
“Ye need not fear for your son, my lady. I have arranged for him to meet ye at Kildrummy.” At least one good deed he’d done.
“Meet me…” Her voice trailed off. “Ye have planned this.”
“Aye.”
“But why?”
“I shall let the Bruce explain that to ye.”
“I have done nothing wrong,” she said, her voice quivering.
“Are ye certain?” If she did, in fact, know about Mackenzie’s plan to allow the English into the Highlands, then she would be an accomplice. A traitor.
And that would open up a whole new world of information. For if the lass was a traitor, that meant the Murrays were traitors, didn’t it? But nay, they could not be. Why would they allow the very murderers of their kinsman William Wallace into their homelands to murder them, too? They wouldn’t.
“I have done nothing wrong. I am ever loyal to the Bruce and his cause. My husband was loyal to our country. He was killed by a traitor and ye insult me with your words.”
“Apologies, my lady. I meant no offense.” How absurd that he should find himself apologizing to the woman he’d abducted in the name of his newly appointed king. Malcolm rolled his eyes.
“Ye have offended me greatly. Why could ye not simply come to me with a message to speak with the king? This is a farce! I dinna believe ye! If harm comes to my son, I will carve out your heart with the first stick or stone I find!” The vehemence in her voice was paralyzing. The woman had grit, he had to give her that.
And hell, he respected her for it, too.
“No harm will come to your son. Ye have my word.”
“Your word means nothing. Ye’re a common outlaw, a criminal, an abuser of women.”
Malcolm sighed with resignation.
“I assure ye, my lady, I am none of those things.”
“Prove it. Take me back to my castle.”
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More Books by Eliza Knight
The Conquered Bride Series
Conquered by the Highlander
Seduced by the Laird
Taken by the Highlander (In the Captured by a Celtic Warrior Anthology
Coming soon…
Claimed by the Warrior – March 2016
Stolen by the Highlander – May 2016
The Stolen Bride Series
The Highlander’s Temptation
The Highlander’s Reward
The Highlander’s Conquest
The Highlander’s Lady
The Highlander’s Warrior Bride
The Highlander’s Triumph
The Highlander’s Sin
Wild Highland Mistletoe
—a Stolen Bride winter novella
The Highlander’s Charm
A Kilted Christmas Wish –
a contemporary Holiday spin-off
Coming soon…
The Highlander’s Captive Bride – Summer 2016
The Thistles and Roses Series
Promise of a Knight
Eternally Bound
Coming soon…
Breath From the Sea – Summer 2016
The Highland Bound Series
(erotic time-travel)
Behind the Plaid
Bared to the Laird
Dark Side of the Laird
Highlander’s Touch
Highlander Undone
Coming soon…
Highlander Unraveled – Spring 2016
Under the name E. Knight
Tales From the Tudor Court
My Lady Viper
Prisoner of the Queen
Ancient Historical Fiction
A Day of Fire: a novel of Pompeii
A Year of Ravens: a novel of Boudica’s Rebellion
Scottish Historical Fiction
Highland Hunger
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Eliza Knight is an award winning,
USA Today
bestselling author of sizzling historical romance and erotic romance. Under the name E. Knight, she pens riveting, rip-your-heart-out historical fiction. She lives atop a small mountain, with her own knight in shining armor, three princesses and a very naughty puppy. Visit Eliza at
www.elizaknight.com
or her historical blog History Undressed:
www.historyundressed.com
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