Lord of Fire and Ice (28 page)

“Your horse carries two,” she said. “Surrender, and I’ll convince them to spare you.”

“Drummond wouldna know mercy if it bit him on the arse.”

“Ye’ll never outrun them.”

“Then we’ll go to ground.”

An angry swarm of crossbow bolts buzzed around them. Mad Rob whipped the stallion’s head around, and they plunged down the far side of the hill.

When they reached the bottom, he reined the horse to a slow trot along the base of the hillside.

Elspeth tried to wiggle free as soon as they slowed their pace.

“Hold still,” he snarled. “Dinna try me, wench. I’ve nothing to lose.”

She settled then, taking hope from shouts of the men following them. Their voices echoed from one rise to the next. The horses’ hoofbeats on the far side of the hill sounded like approaching thunder.

Mad Rob seemed not to hear them. He just kept scanning the craggy slope. Then he turned the stallion’s head back up the incline, making for an outcropping of dark granite.

“They’re almost upon us!” Elspeth shouted. “Surrender and live.”

He didn’t slow his determined flight toward the rocks. Then when they almost dashed into them, Rob brought the stallion up so short it nearly sat on its haunches.

“Get ye behind the rock.” He nearly threw her off the horse and leaped down behind her. He pushed her between a pair of cottage-sized boulders, leading the stallion behind him. “To the right.”

There was a yawning hole in the hillside, a cave whose entrance was hidden by the rocks. Elspeth staggered into the darkness as the MacLaren and his mount followed. The ground was uneven beneath her feet.

The cave was cool and dark and ripe with must. She extended her hands before her lest she walk into a wall.

“How did ye know—?”

Mad Rob clamped a hand over her mouth and pulled her back against his chest. “Not a word if ye wish to keep breathing.” His whisper tickled her ear.

She stood perfectly still, inhaling the scent of leather from his gloved hand. She heard his soft breathing and the stallion’s trappings creaking as the horse shifted its weight. Then in the distance, she made out the tattoo of hoofbeats and muffled shouts as the men who were pursuing them overran their hiding place.

Then those sounds faded, and all she could hear was the pounding of her blood coursing through her veins. The heartbeat of the man standing behind her thudded against her spine. He relaxed his hold and removed his hand from her mouth.

She turned to face him and shouted out: “I’m here! Hel—”

His mouth descended upon hers and swallowed up her cry.

She’d been kissed sweetly before, stylized expressions of courtship during some of the dances favored by Queen Mary’s court.

This kiss bore no resemblance to those. This was a ravishment, a demanding plunder of her mouth.

He stole her breath, but she was so surprised by the sudden invasion, she didn’t think to pull away. She froze like a coney confronted by a fox.

He filled her with breath from his own body, warming her to her toes.

I
should
be
revolted. I should be screaming to get away.

But then his mouth went suddenly soft and beguiling on hers. Elspeth had never imagined the like.

How
strange, this shared breath, this mingling of souls.

Without conscious thought, her fingers curled around his collar. She received a flash of Sight. Not exactly a vision. More like a deep Knowing.

Rob MacLaren had a hole in his heart, a void nothing could fill.

He no longer seemed mad to her. Just empty. Her chest constricted in empathy.

An image forced itself into Elspeth’s consciousness, creeping in softly but with determination. The willowy form of a woman with long coppery hair took shape in her mind, distant and hazy. Elspeth couldn’t see her face. The woman turned and fled into the mist.

She sensed deep sadness in MacLaren, an ache that wouldn’t be stilled. A loss for which there was no comfort.

He’d abducted her from the altar, but she couldn’t feel anything for him but pity.

As the Sight faded, pain seared through her brain. It always did when she was touched by her gift, but it paled in comparison to the nameless hurt he bore. Elspeth reached up a tentative hand to comfort him, palming the cheek that wasn’t covered with woad.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her closer. Her lips parted. His tongue swept in. Her belly clenched, and a warm glow settled between her legs.

He left her lips and began kissing her chin, her cheeks, her neck. “Ach! Ye’re sweet, lass.”

Pity dissipated like morning mist. Instead, little wisps of pleasure followed his mouth’s path. The stubble of his beard grazed the tops of her breasts, and her nipples tightened almost painfully. She sucked her breath over her teeth to keep from crying out in pleasure and surprise when his palm covered her breast, the pressure sweet even through the stiff boning of her pink silk bodice.

She’d been sickened by the thought of submitting to Lachlan Drummond’s intimate caress. Now her whole body thrummed with life. She tingled with awareness as Rob touched her.

She’d never understood how a maiden could allow herself to be ruined before. Unruly, unwelcome urges seared through her. The sensations were so unlike her, she wondered if they were somehow part of what she’d Seen of the copper-haired woman.

To her amazement, she ached to lie down beside this man. To feel his body cover hers. To give to him what Lachlan would have taken.

This was madness, but she couldn’t bring herself to end it. With each kiss, his sadness lessened and her pleasure increased. She’d never dreamed she’d experience such astonishing delight.

Only
a
little
longer
, she told herself as bliss sparked across her skin. His kiss was like a draught of heady wine. The discomfort that usually accompanied the Sight was leaving, but her head still felt fuzzy. Was it clouding her judgment?

One
kiss
more. Then I’ll stop.

She splayed her fingers across his chest. His muscles were like a brazen shield beneath his shirt and plaid. He growled with satisfaction. She smoothed her palms up to his shoulders and down his arms.

And encountered sticky wetness on the left side.

“You’re bleeding,” she whispered. One of the crossbow bolts must have found its mark.

He dipped his head and mumbled into the well between her breasts. “’Tis nothing.”

It was enough to recall her to sanity. To serve Queen Mary, she must be either a pure maid or the wife of a nobleman. If she couldn’t remain the first, she’d never be the last. She pulled away from him.

“Truly, ’tis naught but a scratch. Come, lass.”

He folded her into his arms again and delivered a string of kisses along the curve of her jaw.

“No!” she said

When he tried to kiss her again, she delivered a ringing slap to his cheek. Reason flooded her mind again. Perhaps he was called “Mad Rob” because he could entice others to insanity. She jerked herself out of his arms.

“Now keep away from me,” she ordered.

He chuckled mirthlessly. “Lass, I’ve killed dozens of men. Do ye really think ye can stop me from whatever I may decide to do with you?”

He took a step toward her, his eyes glittering fiercely in the dark.

Lord of the Black Isle

by Elaine Coffman

A Warrior’s Life…

Laird David Murray would give his life to pull his clan through this time of strife and conflict. With enemies both inside and outside his keep, he has never felt so alone and desperate. Until he meets a beautiful healer with uncanny knowledge from another time…

Meets a Healer’s Heart…

Elisabeth Douglas was a doctor in her own time. Now she’s the only one with the knowledge and skill to help Laird David save the lives of his family…

“Coffman’s writing is deft, capable, and evocative.”
—Publishers Weekly

“Full of action, danger, passion, and drama…A must-read for medieval and time-travel fans alike”
—RT Book Reviews
, ****

“Delightfully infused with suspense, humor, heartache, an entertaining plot, well-drawn characters, and a wily ghost, this story is a keeper.”
—Romance Junkies

For more Elaine Coffman, visit:

www.sourcebooks.com

The Highlander’s Prize

by Mary Wine

Clarrisa of York has never needed a miracle more. Sent to Scotland’s king to be his mistress, her deliverance arrives in the form of being kidnapped by a brusque Highland laird who’s a bit too rough to be considered divine intervention. Except his rugged handsomeness and undeniable magnetism surely are magnificent…

Laird Broen MacNichols has accepted the challenge of capturing Clarrisa to make sure the king doesn’t get the heir he needs to hold the throne. Broen knows more about royalty than he ever cared to, but Clarrisa, beautiful and intelligent, turns out to be much more of a challenge than he bargained for…

With rival lairds determined to steal Clarrisa from him and royal henchmen searching for her all over the Highlands, Broen is going to have to prove to this independent-minded lady that a Highlander always claims his prize…

“[The characters] fight just as passionately as they love while intrigue abounds and readers turn the pages faster and faster!”
—
RT Book Reviews
, ****

For more Mary Wine books, visit:

www.sourcebooks.com

True Highland Spirit

by Amanda Forester

Seduction is a powerful weapon...

Morrigan McNab is a Highland lady, robbed of her birthright and with no choice but to fight alongside her brothers to protect their impoverished clan. When she encounters Sir Jacques Dragonet, she discovers her fiercest opponent…

Sir Jacques Dragonet is a Noble Knight of the Hospitaller Order, willing to give his life to defend Scotland from the English. He can’t stop himself from admiring the beautiful Highland lass who wields her weapons as well as he can and endangers his heart even more than his life…

Now they’re racing each other to find a priceless relic. No matter who wins this heated rivalry, both will lose unless they can find a way to share the spoils.

“A masterful storyteller, Amanda Forester brings new excitement to Scottish medieval romance!”
—Gerri Russell, award-winning author of
To Tempt a Knight

For more Amanda Forester books, visit:

www.sourcebooks.com