Page 19 of The Chief's Wild Promise
Her gaze fastened on his mouth then. His lower lip was split and starting to swell, yet she’d never noticed just how sensual the curve of his upper lip was. The scent of his skin, both spicy and woodsy, filled her nostrils, and dizziness suddenly assailed her.
She was in trouble.
“Ye are crushing me,” she finally wheezed, sagging against the ground. The fight went out of her now.
Mackinnon’s gaze darkened with what looked like worry, self-recrimination even. He then breathed a curse. A moment later, he lifted his lower body from hers.
“Got ye.” Makenna brought her knee up and drove it into his groin.
Grunting, he let go of her wrists as if burned. Seizing her chance, she shoved him off her and rolled to her feet. Then, staring down at the man as, cradling his injured cods with one hand, he rolled onto his side, she caught his eye.
“Ye showed me mercy, Mackinnon … that was yer first mistake.”
He glared up at her, a nerve flickering in his cheek as he tried to focus through the pain she’d just inflicted. “And my second one?” he rasped.
Makenna moved back from him and retrieved her dirk-belt, buckling it around her waist. To her consternation though, her hands were a little unsteady.That fight hadn’t gone as she’d expected. Trying to ignore her reaction, she cut him an imperious look. “Letting yer guard down.”
Bran limped into the bailey.
The throbbing in his bollocks was fading, although each stride chafed them.
Ire pulsed under his breastbone. Indeed, he’d fumed with every painful step back to the castle. However, some of that anger was directed at himself. What had he been thinking, accepting her challenge? The woman was a warrior and hadn’t taken kindly to him pulling his punches. By doing so, he’d insulted her. He’d thought subduing Makenna would be the end of it, but when she’d wriggled like a pike on a hook under him—and to his horror, he’d found his rod stiffening for her—he’d been distracted.
And she’d seized her chance.
Even now, the shame of his arousal made his cheeks burn. He couldn’t believe his body had betrayed him like that. Aye, he’d marked the lass’s attractiveness from the first the day before, yet he didn’t think he’d respond to her so strongly.
“What happened to ye?” A male voice, laced with faint amusement, drew his attention then.
Turning, Bran’s gaze alighted upon Alec Rankin. He was leaning against a nearby wall, arms folded across his chest.
Bran’s mouth twisted. “Nothing.”
“I just saw Lady Makenna stalk past,” Rankin drawled, eyeing Bran speculatively. “Her face was red, and she had a murderous glint in her eye.” He paused. “Were ye responsible?”
Bran snorted. He wasn’t going to dignify that with a response.
Rankin shook his head and pushed himself off the wall. “Ye didn’t attempt to dishonor the lass, did ye?”
The anger pulsing under Bran’s ribs flared hot once more. Was thispirateabout to defend Makenna’s virtue? “Go stick yer head in a dung hill, Rankin,” he snarled. “I don’t answer to ye.”
Bran tensed as his father’s killer approached. He hadn’t seen Kendric Mackinnon fall on that fateful day. The final fight had taken place out on the water. The crew ofThe Blood Reiverhad boarded the clan-chief’s birlinn, and there, the two men had dueled. He reminded himself then that death in battle wasn’t murder, and that there was no better way for a warrior to die. Even so, the sight of the pirate still curdled his gut.
Rankin halted around three yards distant. His gaze then narrowed. “If I find out ye’ve—”
Bran’s angry curse rang out across the bailey. “The woman goaded me into fighting her … and then when I did, she used my chivalry against me.”
A beat of surprised silence followed, and then to Bran’s shock, Rankin barked a laugh, delight sparking in his blue eyes. “Clever lass.”
Bran clenched his jaw, his fists balling at his sides. If the bastard didn’t stop yapping, he’d make him.
The pirate smirked then. “I might have taught her a few of the moves she used on ye.”
“So, I haveyeto thank then?”
Rankin shrugged. “She wanted me to teach her how to fight dirty … and I did. Makenna is a canny warrior, yet she knows that size and strength go against her.” He paused then, folding his arms across his chest once more. “So, the wedding’s off, I take it?”
Bran’s lip curled. How he wished it was. However, he’d signed his name in blood that morning. He’d made a promise that he was now bound to honor.