again.
“Hurry up lass, we have no’ got all day,” one of the ruffians called out.
She could hear the humor in his tone and could feel the eyes of the others around her, watching her. She could have done without their mockery and boorish behavior.
Before Keira had time to protest, the Beast reached for her waist, lifted her into the air, and plopped her down on top of the horse with a hard thud. Keira turned to look at him, narrowing her eyes at his proud grin.
She had no idea where these men were taking her, but she would escape soon enough, even if she had to walk all the way back from whence they came.
Her captor leapt onto the horse behind her with ease and took the reins to lead the horse onwards. Sitting on the horse’s back, she held onto its sides with a light squeeze of her thighs. Thankful for the fluff of the horses’ mane she grasped in her hand, it allowed her to pull her hips forward, keeping a comfortable distance from him without sliding back against his firm chest.
At full speed, Keira’s tightly knitted braids began to loosen. It was only moments before the ribbon that tied the braids flew off with the force of the wind. The horse veered from side to side forcing Keira to grip the horse’s withers with her hands which caused her bottom to slip back into the Beast . She felt her behind lift slightly and jostle as the mare galloped the uneven terrain. Before she knew it, she was nearly sitting on the man’s lap. Securing her atop the horse, he firmly held her waist. Sending a silent prayer to the heavens, she prayed this was not a long journey.
Chapter 4
Ian kept a steady, watchful eye on the lass riding in front of him. Torn between pity and mistrust, he started to second guess his intentions. He would never mistreat a woman the way he had treated her, but his prejudice against Chisholm made the lass an easy target and an easy bargaining chip. There was a chance the lass was completely ignorant of her laird’s treachery, but then again perhaps not. Ian could not afford to take unnecessary chances.
He watched as her body was jostled up and down atop the horse. She was barely able to hold on at their rapid pace. Her copper locks blew wildly in the wind and the skirt of her dress fluttered at her sides, revealing the top of her knee and her shapely, smooth calves and trim ankles.
Not easily swayed by a pretty face and a firm backside, Ian was drawn to the wee vixen. Normally, he wouldn’t have given much attention to the lass but her grunts and moans were next to impossible for any man to ignore, not to mention her body tightly pressed up against his. No matter how steadfast he was, he was still a man.
Ian found himself finding excuses to glance down at her. Mayhap it was the unanswered questions about her identity that sparked his curiosity; or perhaps the way wisps of her hair tickled his face like a feather, either way he could not draw his gaze from her. Feeling her backside pressed hard against his groin, Ian knew that once their reached camp he would be in need of a dip in the loch to cool his loins.
They had ridden almost an hour and the lass had remained quiet. She had not complained once. He admired her tenacity.
“Is it too much to ask fer us to stop? I need some privacy,” the lass called out.
“Ye cannae hold it?” Ian asked.
“I have no’ control o’er when nature calls, any more than I have control o’er the weather. Surely ye must know that!”
Grunting, Ian pulled on the reins bringing his horse to a halt as the others followed suit.
“Is something amiss?” Rylan asked. “Why did we stop?”
“The lass needs to piss.”
“Dinna she know the dangers of stopping here? We have just entered into Sutherland land.”
Ian knew very well where they were. He was reluctant to stop, but knew by the tone in the lass’s voice that she was not going to be able to wait any longer.
“Why dinna ye and the rest of the men continue on to the camp? We will be
Teresa Gabelman, Hot Tree Editing