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  He put her down but kept his grip on her only slightly loosened. “But be warned.” He took a step closer and she could feel his breath against her skin. “Do not question my honor again, madam.”

  Her head had tilted so far back to meet his eyes; she thought her neck would snap. The wall was cold against her back and legs, but the heat radiating from his body was immense. Her green eyes were so large he thought he would drown in them. The moonlight shone through the window and cast a bright light over her face while shadowing his.

  Och, this woman! Who was she that she her mere presence would cause him to throw caution to the wind and entice him to break his vows of marriage to his fiancé?! Och, this was going to cost his treasury dearly.

  His blood was boiling, first with anger but now with something else. Something that was making his trews feel extremely uncomfortable.

  He lifted her up again, this time stopping when she was eye to eye with him. She licked her lips, and her chin trembled slightly. So much for independent, unafraid women. She should say something, do something, hit something. Make him hate her so he would be glad to be rid of her when she found those stones.

  He closed the gap, small as it was, between them and showed no mercy. His lips crushed her, and she tasted blood. After a half second hesitation, she opened her mouth to him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pinned her against the wall with his body. Her feet dangled for a slight moment, and then she locked them around his waist. Her arms entwined around his neck, and she held on for dear life.

  She had had a few men in her life, had gotten serious with a couple of them. But it never lasted. They always came on too strong and threatened her way of life, her independence. Other than a little heavy petting, she had never let them go any further. Although her friends teased her endlessly about being a virgin throughout high school and then college, she just hadn’t felt like pursuing the intimacies of the bedroom with any of her former beaus.

  Why or how she knew to wrap herself around this almost complete stranger was mind boggling. Her blood boiled when he was near and got even hotter when he barely looked at her. She was in unfamiliar territory.

  He pulled away and smiled when she whimpered in protest. Then he laughed as she tried to lean up to recapture his lips. As much as he would like to plunge himself deep within her woman’s secrets, he had other things to accomplish before he allowed himself that luxury. He grinned. After all, he was an honorable man. And he would show her.

  He put her down and stepped slightly away but kept her in his embrace. “I will feel yer passion to its depth on our wedding night, but not before then. Other things call for my attention before that night that I must attend to.”

  He bent to nip at her neck. She arched back and gave him full access before she realized what she was doing. He groaned and bit harder. She made a small noise, either of pain or pleasure he was not sure, but the leg that wound itself around his thigh assured him that it was a good thing.

  He chuckled. What a little spitfire she was! Most of the women he had had did not like his tendency to bite them, but perhaps this one was different. She had already showed her willingness to continue their kiss even when he knew that she must have tasted the blood from the harshness of his mouth.

  “I must take my leave, lass. I will see you in the morn.”

  He lightly touched his lips to hers and reluctantly pulled away. It would be so easy right now to take her, and it would not be against her will, he was sure. That she was lost in her passion made him smile. How quickly her anger had turned to passion, he mused. Perhaps this marriage would not be such a bad thing. He must begin negotiations with Lord Brighton to end the marriage contract with his daughter. And quickly.

  Raines stood there, leaning against the wall, her fingers lightly touching her swollen lips. The room seemed so empty without him. She barely knew him but had not wanted him to leave. But she was glad he did. She was not a flighty girl to give in so easily to the first man who took her fancy. She frowned. What if he thought she was some loose woman he could just have at a moment’s notice?

  She stomped to the bed and flopped down on it. With arms crossed, she stared at the ceiling. Well, she would just have to prove to him otherwise.

  Chapter 6

  The following morning was unusually warm with the sun shining down on the inhabitants of the castle. Children laughed and chased one another while their parents watched and exchanged gossip. Even the animals sensed the lightness of the day. There was not a cloud in the sky.

  Leith found himself whistling as he strolled to the fighting arena. He had had it built for the specific purpose of his men having the best training facility in the land. One never knew when one would be set upon by one’s enemy. His castle was not known as Hell’s Gate for no particular reason. Many men, good and bad, had lost their lives either trying to invade or prevent invasion of this keep. He had buried too many of his friends and villagers because the British could not leave the Scots alone. Hell’s Gate in particular was on prime grazing land, fresh and fertile. Every year yielded an abundance of crops, cattle, and wool. And almost every year, they were invaded by the bloody British, mainly Leith’s fair haired English cousin, Alisdair.

  The two boys had been best of friends growing up. Leith born to two Scottish parents, Alisdair born to a Scottish mother and British father. Eventually, as the political strain upon the country increased, Alisdair’s father began despising the Scottish, saying they were a filthy, heathen lot. The fact that he had married a Scots woman seemed to escape him.

  Eventually, Alisdair and his parents gained favor with the English throne. People wondered whether it was by underhanded dealings or the family heritage that Alisdair’s father called upon when necessary. The fact that an ancestor he had only read about had at one time in the long ago past had fought for and saved the King’s life was usually all the leverage he needed.

  Alisdair had been raised to turn on his Scottish heritage. And turn he did. With all the strength and vigor a young man could. To him, Scotsmen and all things from that country were beneath him.

  Leith watched his men sparring in the manmade arena. It was set away from the castle walls far enough to give the men room to move freely to practice all of the necessary fighting moves but close enough to provide shade for the onlookers. Robbie was in the ring with a young boy, teaching him the proper way to hold his smaller, wooden sword. Both were bare-chested and wore only breaches to allow the maximum freedom of movement.

  The boy stepped forward and swung his sword which Robbie deftly sidestepped and swatted the boy on the backside. The boy was not deterred. He turned and spread his feet, tightened his hold on his sword and raised it above is head. Robbie prepared to parry the boy’s blow, but the boy changed direction at the last minute and kicked Robbie in the shin. Robbie let out a howl while hopping on one foot and grasped the injured leg. The surrounding men guffawed and laughed at how the young boy had made his play. Robbie growled at the lad and made to give chase but the boy laughed and ran to hide behind the crowd of watching men.

  Leith slapped Robbie on the shoulder, the sound of bare skin sending a loud clapping echo. Robbie glanced at his older brother and motioned to the dark-haired boy peeking through the legs of one of the men.

  “The boy deserves a good whipping.”

  Leith noticed the small smile that played on Robbie’s lips.

  “Aye, he does.” Leith looked sideways at him. “Perhaps you tell his mother.”

  At that, Robbie’s entire face from his scalp to the bottom of his neck turned a deep shade of red. He frowned at Leith and fairly growled. “I’ll do no such thing.”

  Leith leaned closer so only Robbie could hear. “She willna know your intentions if you do not tell her.”

  Robbie looked at the boy again who had run to his mother. She gave him her basket of vegetables to carry as she wiped her brow. She ruffled the boy’s hair and he gleamed up at her.

  “Och, I’ll do no such thing!”


  But he couldn’t help and steal another glance at the lovely woman with hair almost as red as his own. Her husband had been buried less than a year ago. He shook his head. No finer woman in all of Scotland was there. He sighed.

  Turning to Leith, he looked him square in the eye, and then punched him straight in the gut. Leith grunted and stumbled only slightly as the air whooshed from his body. He landed a right hook on the side of Robbie’s jaw. The two ended up on the ground, rolling over each other while doing their best to land a punch or two.

  Finally Leith had Robbie pinned to the ground. Both men were breathing heavily and covered in dirt, mud, and grass. As Leith sat upon Robbie, he grinned.

  “Did ye really think ye could best me, brother? Ye know I always win.”

  “If ye weren’t so bloody oversized, ye might be a little easier to knock down,” Robbie snapped. He spit out a piece of grass.

  Leith laughed. “When I am old and gray, we will still be tumbling around on the ground and I shall beat you with my walking stick.”

  “Och, and I shall trip ye with my cane and laugh as ye fall on yer scrawny arse.” Robbie’s smile was ear to ear as he proudly predicted the future event.

  The two walked over to the fighting ring and began sparring with each other. Armed with wooden swords, they lunged, retreated, twisted, and turned in mock warfare.

  That was when Leith saw her.

  Raine, with her golden hair tied in a single braid down her back, walked straight towards them.

  Robbie, seeing the path of Leith’s gaze, decided to take advantage of the moment. He pulled back his fist. It landed square on Leith’s jaw. Leith landed flat on his back.

  Leith blinked. Then gingerly rubbed his face. Robbie’s face came into view, hovering over him as he lay sprawled. “That’ll teach ye, old mon.”

  He laughed heartily and helped the other up.

  Raine had one thought on her mind today. She had to prove who she was. What she was. What she was not. And that was a bubble headed woman. She would prove her independence and perhaps win back some of her lost dignity from the previous night. Just thinking about his lips on hers had her legs slightly quivering. She quickened her pace and shook her head.

  He would not get to her. She would show him she was just as much a man as he was.

  Before her father had died, he had taught her some of his boxing moves from his former glory days in the military. He had always gone easy on her since she was just a little girl. But Raine had never forgotten those times when it was just him and her together, closing out the world. She practiced whenever she had the chance and had earned his approval for her increased skills. His theory was to teach her how to defend herself against a harsh world. Hers was to earn his praise and respect. And she had.

  Every eye was on her as she stopped outside the wooden gate of the ring. She propped a foot on it and said nonchalantly, “Good morning, gentlemen.”

  Leith could not take his eyes off of her. She was wearing the men’s breeches that he had first seen her in. Her strong thighs were outlined as was her very round, very lovely, derriere. He was not the only man staring at her lower half, and he did not like that.

  “My lady, you should be in the keep, not here amongst the dealing of men,” he said bluntly. That should put her in her place.

  She shrugged. “I want to watch.” She glanced around. “That is alright, isn’t it?” She blinked innocently.

  He took a step towards her. She tried to think faster. “I mean, I am your guest. I was just curious as to what all of you men were doing.”

  Leith narrowed his eyes until they were mere blue slits. She was up to something. He had thought that after last night, she would appreciate the fact of being his wife more than she had. A thought struck him.

  He sighed dramatically. “Lady, certainly ye cannot mean to say that the sight of men practicing warfare is more interesting than carrying on the women’s tasks of the keep? Why, there is cooking to be done, shirts to mend, floors to sweep. Surely that is where ye’re interests lie, not here where the men are actually working.”

  He was goading her. She knew it. Two can play at that game.

  She slowly walked over to a long stick that had been smoothed down. It was roughly five feet long and lightweight. She knew how to use this. Her father had taught her how to play fight with it.

  “Well,” she said loftily, “I just thought that perhaps I could offer some advice. I mean, after all, it seems you could use all the help you can get. Even if it is from a woman.” She fairly ground out the word.

  A few of the men let out a breath and took a step back, averting their gazes. She had practically declared war on him.

  She was challenging him. “I doubt a…woman…has anything of value to contribute to the art of fighting.” He met her gaze and said in a steely voice, “Women were not meant for war, but for rearing children, comforting their men and running his household. That is where she belongs.” He thought briefly of his mother. “That is where she is safe.”

  She watched him. There was a reason he thought what he did, but she would not lose her independence just because he said so. She had to make a stand now. If she did not find those stones and return to her time, she would be forced to marry this giant. And if that happened, she did not was to spend her time knitting.

  Picking up the stick, she twirled it between her hands, smiling as it made a whooshing sound as it sliced through the air.

  “Perhaps I could just show you.” She looked over her shoulder at him and fluttered her lashes. “My lord,” she purred.

  He was not fooled. She was full of vinegar, this one. For all her smiles and innocence, he could hear how her words dripped with cynicism. He smiled back at her. How bad could it be? He, a skilled warrior, would let her, a woman who was half his size and probably could not even make a fist, have her fun and then send her back to the keep with her tail tucked firmly between her legs. He lowered his gaze. Legs that were much too tantalizing to be wrapped in men’s breaches for all to see.

  He nodded to her. “As ye wish, my lady.”

  She was not sure what she had gotten herself into but one thing was for sure – she was standing her ground and proving that she was a force to be reckoned with. If nothing else, perhaps she would wear out her welcome and his ridiculous idea of marriage, he would make it his priority to take her to the stones and get rid of her. She watched him and tried to gage how to best him. His eyes seemed to stray to her legs. She smiled.

  Swishing her hips more than necessary, she practically pranced towards him. It was the advantage she was looking for. As his gaze followed her thighs, she raised her stick nonchalantly as if to pass him, and then brought it striking down across his abdomen.

  The entire circle of men heard the harsh vibration of air as it was forced out of Leith’s lungs. Only Robbie was smiling.

  Leith stood tall as the pain left his middle and inhaled deeply. The wench wanted to play. She was miffed about last night. Upset not because he kissed her, oh no, but because she liked it. He ground his teeth.

  This was war.

  He turned and followed her as she pranced to the other side of the ring. When he was close enough, she turned to look at him. She was not expecting him to actually do anything so it was all the more pleasurable to see the look of surprise as she fell flat on her behind when he knocked her off her feet in one fail swoop of his stick.

  She glared at the laughing men as she dusted herself off. The two continued the cat and mouse game, each besting the other here or there, flashing a smug grin to the other. She couldn’t help but notice how nicely the sun reflected off his chest as he moved. She also noticed that his clear blue gaze never left her. Maybe she only noticed that because her gaze never left him.

  She was standing her ground but not truly besting him. If she walked away without proving herself, he would continue to treat her as a subservient female. That was unacceptable.

  She had to take him by surprise and move in for the
kill.

  She stopped circling the ring. Standing completely still, she watched him, moving only her eyes to keep him in her sights. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes, and exhaled slowly.

  As he gripped his stick, he had the distinct feeling that this lass’s mind was focusing on one thing – how to knock him off of his feet in front of all of his men. He could not allow that. He would not hurt her, maybe a bruise or two on her luscious behind to remind her that he was the laird here.

  The two faced each other. Raine’s braid had come loose and the slight breeze lifted the golden strands and deposited them over her shoulder where they wrapped tantalizingly around her breasts. The effect was not lost on Leith. Despite his determination to teach her a lesson, he merely stood and watched as this golden chit of a woman sprinted toward him. She threw her stick to the side at the last minute and slammed her body full force into him.

  A boney shoulder met a rock hard abdomen. Both grunted as they tumbled and rolled through the dirt. Leith would have landed on top of her, but a quick knee to the groin had him rolling to the side. As she sat on top of him, both breathing heavy, she smiled. She knew she had not done permanent damage, just enough to gain the upper hand so she was the one looking down on him this time.

  Her hands on his shoulders, she said loudly, “Perhaps you should leave the fighting to the women, my lord.”

  Any other person who had challenged his authority would have been severely punished. And this chit would have been made an example of for the entire village – if she hadn’t looked so bloody attractive perched atop him.

  He gripped her hips as she made to stand up. She stilled. He smiled.

  She pushed away and stood over him. He continued to lay there unmoving, that smirk firmly in place. She had beaten him, and he was looking like the cat that ate the canary.

  He watched her walk away, the sway of her hips capturing the gaze of Leith and all of his men. Even Robbie.

  “Och, there it goes,” Robbie sighed.

  “Goes what?” Leith asked, his gaze not wavering.