The Highlander’s Tempting Touch

Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

W ithin a candle-mark of beginning the journey to his lands, Alistair decided that riding with a prisoner in his arms was a bit like trying to hold the sharpened section of an unsheathed blade with bare hands. Difficult, nerve-wracking, and likely to draw blood. Niamh might have the sense not to thrash and risk a fall, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Niamh Cameron was angry and not at all afraid to let him know it. Before long, his shins were bruised from her ‘accidental’ kicks, and his ears were aching from her ceaseless complaints.

After the third elbow to his ribs, he slid his arms under hers on either side so that his ribs were no longer where she could hit them. Niamh exploded into snarls of rage. “Ye brute! I didnae ever give ye permission tae touch me like that! Let go!”

“If I let go, ye’ll fall. And I’m in nay mind tae turn up at me own clan black and blue from yer elbows. Besides…” He let his voice drop to a low rumble. “’Tis only an arm around yer waist. Are ye protesting because I’m tae forward, or…” He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “because I’m nae forward enough?”

“Ye’re a right knave and a shameless rake, MacDuff. Dinnae even think tae tak’ more liberties, or I’ll find a way tae stick a knife in yer ribs, bound hands or nae.” Her voice was venomous.

He smirked at her ire. “As ye will, me lady. But ye’ve only tae say the word if ye change yer mind.”

That earned him an extra hard kick to the shin, and Alistair’s smirk widened.

Niamh was well on her way to despising him, and that was all for the best. As long as she hated him, the curse he’d received after the death of his first beloved would remain dormant. As long as there was nothing between them save civility, there was nothing for either of them to fear.

It might not be the most comfortable journey, or the most comfortable marriage, but it would suffice.

The uneven ground altered the horse’s gait, and swayed Niamh’s weight back against him. Her slim form leaned against his chest, offering an illusion of trust and amiability. Alistair grimaced at the rush of blood to his groin. The leggings he wore for long rides hid his reaction from Niamh, but he couldn’t help shifting in discomfort.

“Dinnae even dare think o’ letting me fall.”

Alistair cursed in his head when he realized she’d felt his movement. He scowled at the petite figure in his arms. “I wouldnae consider it.”

Niamh managed to turn enough to glare at him. “And how am I tae ken that? Ye obviously dare many other actions a proper laird wouldnae consider.”

“I never said I was a proper laird, only a laird by title and birthright. And as fer letting ye fall, I’d scarce manage without unseating meself as well, lass. Credit me fer enough sense tae nae give us both an injury.”

Niamh huffed and faced forward once more. Alistair sighed and relaxed into his seat.

This was going to be a very long journey.

Niamh scowled at the road in front of her. She wasn’t cold, thanks to Alistair’s arms around her, but she was uncomfortable in every other respect.

The saddle was wider than she was used to, and she didn’t have the benefit of stirrups. Alistair’s muscular frame crowded her closer to the front of the saddle than she preferred to ride. And, most irritating of all, her hands were tied. She couldn’t control her own balance in the saddle and was forced to rely on Alistair to keep her from falling to the ground below.

At first, she’d taken pleasure in kicking his shins and hitting him with her elbows. But now, he responded by blocking her ability to do either.

One candle-mark stretched into two, then three, with no opportunity to escape or do anything more than harangue her would-be betrothed. Niamh shifted her weight and winced as a pressing need made itself known. “We need tae stop.”

“There’s miles tae go yet afore night falls.”

Niamh twisted to glare at him. “That’s nae the point! Dae ye really intend tae ride the entire afternoon with nary a stop fer food, water, or other needs?”

“If ye need food or water, I’ve some in me saddle bags, nay need tae stop tae retrieve it, nor enjoy it.”

“And what if I’ve other needs?” She had a feeling he was teasing her, or deliberately ignoring her implications.

“Then ye need tae tell me, and I’ll tell ye if we need tae stop.”

Niamh’s cheeks heated. “I need tae stop because I need tae relieve meself and stretch my legs, ye great brute.”

“Ye had only tae ask.” Alistair’s voice was filled with dry amusement as he guided the horse to a small, wooded area off the path. “I wouldnae want ye tae languish in discomfort.”

“If ye felt that way, ye’d untie me hands.” She gave him a scathing glare as he slid from the horse and reached up to help her down.

“I’m nae so foolish as all that, lass, nae when we’re riding and ye keep tryin’ tae hit me.” Niamh watched in furious amazement as he tied a rope around her waist, with the knot at her back where she couldn’t reach it. “Nae more am I fool enough tae give ye a chance tae run away.”

To her surprise, he moved to loosen the ropes around her wrists to free her hands. “I’ll be keepin’ an eye on ye, but that should make it easier.”

Her face burning, Niamh hurried beyond the trees to empty her bladder.

She hadn’t expected the courtesy of having her hands free. For a moment, she felt a flicker of gratitude. Then she clenched her jaw.

Freein’me hands fer relievin’ meself doesnae change the fact that he tied me up and took me from me home. Nor daes it change how he deceived me, and threatened Grace. Even the rottenest bounder can have a moment or two o’ courtesy in him.

She finished her business, then looked at the rope at her waist. The knot didn’t appear too difficult to undo. If she could escape into the woods, perhaps she could make her way back to Grace, and the two of them could run away together. Or she might go to her mother’s family and tell them how she had been treated. Surely, they would grant her protection.

She tugged at the knot, trying to see if she could loosen it. She’d no sooner given one of the loops a pull than the rope at her waist tugged sharply. She stumbled forward, into Alistair’s arms.

He raised an eyebrow. “If ye’d left the knot alone, I would have considered leavin’ yer hands free while ridin’, ye ken. But ‘tis clear ye havenae learned yer lesson yet.”

“Ye brute!” She tried to hit him, but he caught her wrist and began winding the rope around it once more. “Ye cannae expect me tae tolerate bein’ treated as a prisoner!”

“And ye wouldnae be treated so, if ye’d stop tryin’ tae fox me at every turn.” Alistair returned her furious gaze with an impassive stare that was more infuriating than anger would have been. “Like or nae, lass, I am yer betrothed. I’ve said afore, I dinnae care if ye’re angered, or if ye’re nae a proper lady, but I’ll nae have a hooligan fer a bride. And I’ll nae have ye tryin’ tae escape every time I turn me back or sabotaging the journey when I’m nae looking.”

With that, he finished tying her hands and led her back to the horse. “Dae ye want aught tae eat or drink, afore we resume travelin’?”

Niamh snorted. “As if I’d accept aught a blackguard like ye would give me. I wouldnae be surprised if ye had drugged it.”

“If I wanted tae drug ye, I’d nae be so careless. But have it yer way.” Without another word, Alistair hoisted her into the saddle and swung himself up behind. He coaxed the horses into motion once more.

Her stomach ached for food, and for a moment, Niamh wanted to protest, to tell him she was hungry and ask for something to eat. Nonetheless, she kept her jaw clenched and her face forward, her back stiff to avoid any more contact than was strictly necessary.

He couldn’t watch her forever. Sooner or later, Alistair would make a mistake and she would escape. And then she would find a way to deliver repayment on both him and her father.