Page 15

He shuffled toward her, that lascivious grin curdling her blood. “Och, ye look fair divine in that firelight, lassie.”

“Get the hell out of my chamber!” Davina snapped, raising the poker like a sword.

“Fiery tongue on ye.” His gaze draggeddown her body and back again, thick with lust. “I’ll show ye what tae do with that filthy mooth.”

His hand disappeared beneath his tartan, and the unmistakable motion made her stomach twist.

Heat flushed her face—rage, not shame. She gritted her teeth, years of unwanted touch surging back like bile. “You lay one hand on me—”

He chuckled, dark and low. “Ooo, I do love a rowdy toss.”

He lunged.

She dodged and brought the poker down hard against his arm.

He grunted, his grin twisting into a snarl. “Put that doon, or it’ll be worse when I catch ye.”

“You’re drunk, MacLeod,” she bit out, circling toward the door. “Go sleep it off. Leave now, and I’ll forget this happened.”

“What’s a woman’s word worth?” he sneered. “Yer hoosband won’t believe a word o’ it.”

She swung again—aiming higher.

He caught the iron rod mid-air. “Shite!” He wrenched it from her grip and flung it aside. The poker clanged across the floor. “C’mere, ye feisty bitch!”

She spun for the door.

His leg swept out, catching her ankles. Crashing to the floor, pain flared in her wrists as they caught her weight. Splinters bit deep into her palms.

She scrambled for the potted flowers by the door, but her fingers only grazed the cool ceramic before he dragged her back.

“Keep fightin’, lass,” he growled, his breath hot and rancid. “It only makes it sweeter.”

Dear God. How many times Ian had said those very words?

Panic surged.

Davina twisted, brought her knee up and slammed her heelinto his face.

“Fuck!” MacLeod tumbled back, clutching his nose. Blood splattered across his cheeks and hands, dripping onto his tunic.

“Davina?”

The door rattled.

“Get the guard!” she screamed and scrambled to her feet before MacLeod tackled her to the floor.

“Ye fuckin’ cunt! I’m gonna—”

Davina grabbed and smashed the pot of dried flowers over his head. He slumped on top of her.

With grunt, she shoved his dead weight aside, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. “Bloody hell!”

“Make haste!” Rosselyn shouted from the hall.

Davina staggered to her feet and shoved the chest of drawers with all her might. The piece of furniture scraped with protest against the wood planks. She opened the door.

The guard raised his axe. Davina and Rosselyn shrieked. The guard stumbled backward, withdrawing his weapon, then sighed with relief.