A Highlander Never Surrenders Read Online Free PDF Page B

she dragged her sword from its sheath and pointed it at them, “I shall impale you both on my blade.”
    The Highlander cut his gaze to her horse, then leaped to the ground. He strode directly toward her, his plaid swinging about his knees, and pulled the cap back from his head. Claire stood motionless while a lock of deep gold fell over his brow. When he reached her, he slapped her blade out of his way, discounting her threat as if she were no more dangerous than a badly behaved child.
    “He needs rest,” he said, stepping past her and examining the animal’s coat and mouth. “And water.” He grasped Troy’s reins and moved to lead the horse away. Claire took a step forward, reaching for the bridle to stop him, but his fingers closed tightly around her wrist. “Ye were careless with yer steed, lass. If the beast dies, ye have only yerself to blame.”
    She did not try to free herself from his steely hold, though his accusation enraged her. The attempt would be futile, and she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her struggle against his strength. Instead, she took a step closer to him and tilted her face to meet and match his cool gaze. “Either way, I will need another horse. Yours looks fit enough.”
    His eyes flashed with a hint of mischief Claire was sure lent to his devilish reputation. His mouth pursed with the arrogance of a man confident in his power to take up any challenge she presented. Indeed, he welcomed it.
    “Two on my mount would slow us up considerably.” His voice deepened to a husky murmur as he leaned down over her. “Though the prospect of having ye nestled between my thighs all the way to Edinburgh is tempting enough to make me dispose of yer horse myself.”
    Claire gave him a cheeky smile and blinked innocently into his gaze. “Which is precisely why you will be dead when I leave.”
    Laugh lines crinkled at the outer corners of his eyes as he drew back. But the amusement in his expression was appreciative, not mocking. Claire did not know what to make of it. Men usually took offense at her threats. Even if they did not believe she could carry them out until it was too late, they hated being challenged by a woman. This one was arrogant indeed.
    “Why didn’t you halt your horse sooner?”
    Claire turned to toss a scowl at Robert Campbell, still seated upon his mount. He regarded her with large, disarmingly innocent eyes before he came to some conclusion that did not please him.
    “We only sought to protect you, my lady.”
    “I do not—” Her charge was cut short by a dagger whistling past his nose, and by Grant lifting her off her feet and tossing her behind his back.
    Gripping her hilt in both hands, Claire glared at his shoulders, which blocked her view, then stepped around him to stand at his side. He cut her a hasty side-glance, but spared her no more than that as he dragged his claymore from its sheath. Together, they set their eyes on the small group of men stepping out from behind the surrounding trees.
    “Thieves,” Claire muttered, noting their tattered garments and the glint of appreciation in their eyes, aimed at the horses.
    “About two and twenty,” the commander agreed.
    “Twenty,” Claire corrected, noting with a certain amount of appreciation his fine battle stance.
    “Nae, lass, there are two behind us.”
    Claire glanced over her shoulder to find he was correct.
    “Hand over them beasts and there won’t be any killin’,” one of the pack called out while he advanced.
    Bracing her legs, Claire watched the miscreant’s every movement over the edge of her blade. She’d had just about enough for one day. She refused to allow a few parasites to postpone her task another moment. “Take the beasts,” she replied. “The horses are mine.”
    The soft chuckle from the unwanted companion at her side drew her glance to him. Graham Grant believed her confidence foolish, her threats meager.
    Every man’s error.
    She proved it an instant later when two