Highland Song Read online

  "Didn’t think you’d be smart enough to get rid of the evidence," Slade said with satisfaction. "Old Jericho didn’t let any grass grow under his feet before h--"

  His speech ended instantly as Slade tossed aside the saddlebag, and uncoiled in a rapid charge that ended with the dirk yanked from Lainie’s fingers but not before the tiny weapon drew blood.

  The next moment she found herself wrenched from underneath the blankets and was dangling from Slade’s strong hands like a bag of flour. Panic swept through her. Without thinking, she brought her knee up fast and hard between Slade’s legs as her brothers had taught her to do.

  "Why you little piece of spiteful baggage," he muttered. "I don't want to hurt--"

  Slade blocked the blow before it could do any harm. When Lainie flew at his eyes with her nails, he buried his face against her neck and dropped with her to the ground.

  "Hold still," he warned her.

  Before Lainie could take another breath, she found that he’d stretched her out on her back, unable to fight, unable to defend herself, unable to move at all except to take tiny, shallow breaths. Hold still? She couldn't move. A hazy red cloud started to fill her head. She pushed it back, praying she could convince him not to rape her. But Slade’s big body covered every bit of hers, driving the air from her lungs and all thoughts from her mind. The bedroll’s thickness did nothing to cushion her from the hard ground beneath her.

  "Let me go," she gasped, tears forming in the corner of her eyes while she struggled to inhale the tiniest bit of air. "Please," she tried begging.

  "Do I look stupid?" he asked dryly. "God only knows what other little tricks you have in store for me if I turn my back on you. What else did your mama teach you that can bring a man to his knees?"

  "I never knew my mama. She died right after I was born," Lainie gasped, pushing on his chest in a feeble attempt to push him off her. "My brothers--"

  "Sure she did," Slade said, apparently indifferent. "I suppose your family neglected you. Left you to clean ashes from the fireplace."

  Lainie gritted her teeth and tried to get a grip on the blind terror sweeping through her. "As a matter of fact they did. Didn’t care a fig for me. Left me to fend for myself. I toiled day and night just for the meager crusts of bread they tossed my way. Now get off me."

  "Poor little fox," Slade said impatiently. "Stop telling me sob stories or I’ll cloud up and cry all over you. I know darn well that if I get up right now, you'll tear my flesh to ribbons with those wicked nails of yours. So I'm going to wait until you calm down."

  "Stop making assumptions about me and get off me, you big oaf."

  "Why?" He smiled.

  Because I’m terrified of you. But I’ll never give you the satisfaction of knowing it. "You’re crushing the air right out of me. I can't breathe."

  "Oh?"

  "What if I promise not to hurt you," she lied.

  Slade gazed at her and let some of his weight ease from her. "If you want to be believable, you should try telling the truth. You have the most stunning, incensed face. And it's only a breath from my own," he murmured as if he’d lost all sense of reality.

  "I wouldn’t tell the truth to a man like you, a snake in the grass. I despise men--all men."

  "Odd," he said his voice low and deep, "you’re not having any problem talking my ear off. After the tales of I've heard about you, why should I believe you hate all men?"

  "Why, you overgrown, overstuffed, pompous pig, sword-wielding bastard," Lainie said with ice freezing each word. Then she corrected herself. "No, you’re worse than any of that. You’re a man who relishes making innocent lives miserable. Women who are too weak to--mmph!"

  Lainie’s words had been efficiently cut off by Slade’s mouth closing over hers.

  For a moment, she was too bewildered to do anything but lie rigid underneath his hard, crushing weight. The she felt the sure thrust of his tongue between her teeth and panicked. All the memories of that day in the woods with Bertram over her and inside her came rushing back with a vengeance. Twisting, kicking trying to fling him off, she fought with every ounce of strength in her body.

  Lainie’s wild, futile fighting did nothing but wear her out and make her desperate to breathe. Yet when she gasped for air, she couldn’t. Slade’s weight was too great to shift from her chest even the tiny inch she needed.

  "Little, fox, you are dangerous," he murmured. "Can you be tamed to fulfill a man’s greatest desires? I wonder? Are your struggles just another ploy to get your way?" he asked, his mouth still hovering over hers but not touching her. Slade held himself over her, restraining her just enough to keep her from attacking him. He pinned her to the ground with his much greater weight, absorbing her struggles but he didn't try to kiss her again. Instead, he watched her with his shimmering green eyes.

  She didn’t want to descend into the world where she felt nothing, where she saw nothing save a magical, fantasy world. She would not give in to whatever horrible thing Slade was about to do to her. She meant to fight him every step of the way.

  Yet with each passing moment, her world began to go gray, then black, receding from her in a rush, spinning away.

  The tiny, terrified sound Lainie made as she felt herself fainting did what none of her struggles had done. Slade lifted his body just enough to allow her a breath of air.

  "That’s example number two," Slade said coolly when Lainie opened her eyes and focused on him.

  "What--what do--ye mean?" she gasped.

  "I’m faster than you are. That was your first example. I’m bigger and stronger than you are. That was the second example. And your third example…" He paused for a moment watching her as if he meant to learn everything about her in that one second.

  "There won’t be a third example." Her hands rested on his chest. She tried to push him away once more.

  "But there already has been. The third one was mine to learn," he said and smiled oddly as he looked at Lainie’s gently brushing a wisp of hair from her eyes.

  "W-what?"

  "I learned that you taste hotter than French brandy and sweeter than wine," he said simply. "And that I mean to find a way to seduce you. You see, I have to have you. I have to learn how you will feel when I’m deep inside you."

  Without saying another word, Slade lowered his head again. Without noticing the tensions that filled Lainie as well as the fear, he seemed oblivious to all of her terrified emotions.

  "This time, do what I've heard you do best, little fox. I like your kisses hot and deep," he whispered close to her ear.

  "Bastard," she gasped, wondering what horrible nightmare she’d ridden into. But she didn't fight him this time. instead she froze, unable to fight a battle she knew she couldn’t win.

  "Nay, I’m not a bastard," he told her. "Your tongue," he said against her open lips. "Take your hot little tongue and put it inside my mouth."

  Lainie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her breath caught in her chest and her heart beat painfully beneath her breast. A lone tear slipped from the corner of one eye.

  Her sudden stillness made Slade believe she agreed with him. Slowly he lowered his head and made a deep sound of pleasure as he tasted her.

  The gliding caress of his mouth against hers caught her by surprise once more. For the space of a heartbeat, she felt like a delicate flower being held by gentle yet strong hands. Then she remembered where she was and that Slade was no one she knew.

  And she remembered the nightmares of her past.

  She knew first hand what men wanted from women. She’d let no man show her a second time. Nor would she let him try to seduce her. He could learn a fourth thing this day.

  Lainie jerked her head to the side, but not before, she felt the scorching, textured surface of his tongue stroking her own.

  "Don’t do this," Lainie said urgently. Yet for some reason she was no longer terrified.

  This feeling was different. Lainie was feeling a curious weakness, and the sensation seemed to shoot th
rough her at the caressing touch of Slade’s tongue against her own. She realized suddenly that despite her protests, she didn't want him to stop.

  Once a long time ago, when Hawke married Callie, she had wondered if Callie had wanted Hawke. She had wondered about a lot of things. But that day in the woods when Bertram had taken her innocence she had stopped wondering, because she was sure she had known the answer. Now she wasn’t so sure.

  "Why not?" Slade asked coolly. "You liked kissing me. I felt your body melt beneath mine. You want me just as much as I want you."

  "No I don't." She was quick to respond and to deny the truth of his words.

  "You are a liar, little fox. I felt your hot response all the way to my soul."

  "I don’t know you. I don’t want anything to do with you. I don't like you kissing me."

  "You’re going to get to know me, and you and I are going to be together for a while. Hush, now, I'm going to kiss you again."

  "I’m leaving as soon as you get off me."

  "Then you’ll run right into Jericho and his hired soldiers. They'll use you then hand you over to Bertram. Is that what you want?"

  Slade brushed his mouth lazily over Lainie’s and listened to the surprised rush of air between her lips.

  "But--" she began.

  "Hush," Slade said, cutting off Lainie’s protest by biting her lower lip gently. "I’m not going to hurt you, but I am going to have you."

  "Slade--" She tried to protest but the one word was weak even to her own ears. And she thought, I don't know why but I do want him.

  "Don’t worry." Slowly Slade released Lainie’s lower lip. "You’ll like it. I’ll see to it."

  "I will not like it," Lainie said urgently. "It's not something anyone could like."

  "You’re mine, little fox at least until we reach Edinburgh."

  "I’m not going to Edinburgh."

  "Of course you are."

  He grinned and kissed the frantic pulse at her neck. She squirmed and felt the heat all the way to the tips of her toes.

  "Aaron Slade, please. I don’t want to do this. I’m not yours. I don’t understand why you think you can do this to me." But she did. All men took what they wanted. Slade was no different. "Why would you want to take me to Edinburgh?"

  "I have my orders."

  She stiffened. "Who gave you those orders?"

  "I’m not at liberty to say. But I promise you that you will stay safe."

  "That’s more than anyone can promise." Lainie knew her skin had turned as pale as death. Bertram’s headquarters was in Edinburgh.

  "What’s he paying you?" Lainie asked.

  "Nothing."

  "Liar." Her voice died.

  ~ * ~

  Amused and skeptical at Lainie’s difficulty in finding the right words to explain how she was innocent when both of them knew she wasn’t, Slade lifted one black eyebrow and waited for her to continue. She knew why he’d followed her and what he intended. What she didn’t know was that he’d never turn her over to Bertram. It didn’t matter if she’d been Bertram’s mistress. He would never give the old goat the satisfaction of having her again. She was too fragile and far too beautiful for the likes of Bertram who treated all women with disdain.

  "I didn’t do what they are accusing me of doing. Don’t you see it’s a trap," Lainie said unhappily. "I didn’t steal anything from Bertram. I wouldn’t be caught dead in the same room. Not for any reason," she finished in a frenzy.

  "The sealed papers--do they give away the identity of English spies," Slade asked nodding. "With the evidence stacked against you, and these documents they will hang you."

  Lainie blinked and swallowed hard, afraid for her life. "You think you know everything but you don’t."

  Slade smiled. "I understand more than you think. All through explaining?" Slade asked politely.

  "What?"

  "This."

  Slade bent just far enough to cover Lainie’s mouth with his own. When he felt her soften beneath him as if she were giving into him, he settled more heavily on her, reminding her of everything he’d already taught her: When it came to a contest of strength, she didn’t have a chance against Aaron Slade.

  Cautiously, Lainie relaxed, wondering if Slade would release her if she didn’t fight him.

  Instantly, the breath stealing pressure of his body lifted until it was little more than a warm disturbingly sensual contact from her shoulders to her feet.

  "Kiss me," Slade whispered close to her ear. "Kiss me like I know you can."

  "If I do, will you let me go?"

  "Let you go? No. Negotiate, maybe."

  "If I don’t do what you want?"

  "Then you’ll end up in Bertram’s bed, and to hell with what you want," he lied to her.

  "You can’t," she whispered weakly.

  "Just watch me."

  Chapter Three

  "I don't negotiate with English soldiers," Lainie told him, knowing full well she was about to do just that.

  Lainie looked into hard green eyes so close to her own, and realized she never should have taken the bait he’d offered her. She should have never stolen the papers from his satchel.

  With sudden clarity she realized he'd set her up to fall into his trap.

  She had always been good at reading people, but this man had surprised her at every turn. Now she didn’t know if he was bluffing or telling her the truth.

  If you can’t afford to lose, she told herself. You’d best take the offer and run.

  Her body breaking out in a cold sweat, Lainie lifted her head to give Slade the kiss he had asked for. After a fast pressure of lips against his, she retreated, her heart pounding wildly, shaking from head to toe.

  "That’s not a kiss," Slade's voice was smooth and deep.

  She closed her eyes then looked back, wondering what he wanted. "Of course it is." Her nerves were shredded into tiny strips. Her heart thundered beneath her ribs, and she wondered how she'd gotten herself into this unholy mess.

  And she questioned why she liked kissing this man?

  "I should have guessed you would lie with your body the same way you lie about Bertram," he said, his tone an unspoken warning.

  "I did what you asked." She felt indignant at his accusation as well as confused by his warning.

  "The way a scared virgin kisses her first boy. Well, you’re no virgin and I’m no wide-eyed Scotsman."

  "Bu--," she whispered. How could he know she wasn’t a virgin? What he didn’t know was that it wasn’t her fault. Not that she cared if he knew, she told herself. Nor would the knowledge change the way he acted. He was a man, a very dangerous man.

  Slade said something beneath his breath she didn’t understand, then added in a cutting voice, "Save the wide-eyed innocent act for a boy who might believe it. Men my age know everything worth knowing about women’s tricks, and everything we know, we learned the hard way."

  "Then your teachers weren’t very good. I’m not what you think I am." She opened her eyes wide, staring at him as if he were some curiosity.

  "Neither am I. My teachers were masters at what they did," he returned dryly. "I haven’t been taken by someone playing at being a teasing virgin since I was innocent myself. That was so long ago I have a hard time remembering."

  For a brief moment, Lainie thought about explaining to him, but one look at the cold edge to his features told her he wouldn’t believe anything she said. She could read nothing in the flat line to his mouth or the hardness of his eyes. He believed she was a Scottish whore and thief, pure and simple. She wanted to change those thoughts. He believed she'd sold herself to Bertram for trinkets.

  Even worse, she understood why he thought of her in that light. Although she hadn’t planned on stealing the document peeking from beneath his coat, she also could have never let the opportunity pass. If the information contained there saved one Scottish life, her actions were worth every moment of time she had to spend with this man. In the end, Slade had stood up for her, risked his life
to save hers, she owed him a debt of gratitude--perhaps more.

  But that was all she owed him. A simple thank you should suffice. And with the kiss, she felt the debt was bought and paid for.

  It was obvious he wanted something more for the bargain. To save her life, she could not figure out what it was.

  It didn’t matter that his survival in that tavern fight was only due to his unusual skill with a dirk. She hadn’t even known who he was, so she could hardly say that she was certain he would be able to fight free of the trap he had fallen into.