Highland Knight Read Online Free PDF Page B

be a bit of both.
    “Aye, my bonny-faced cur, ye will,” she snapped, furious with the weakness he had exposed within her—that blind, unthinking response of her body to his.
    “And yet ye are already compelled to tantalize me with sweet flatteries.”
    Avery was torn between an urge to laugh and one to slam her knee into his groin.The urge to laugh was what troubled her, almost as much as her errant passions did. Humor, subtle or raucous, tart or sweet, had always appealed to her. She did not need anything else about the man to appeal to her. Before she could turn that anger against herself on him and assault him with a few harsh opinions, however, he tossed her up into the saddle and gracefully mounted behind her.
    Cameron had barely nudged his mount into motion when Avery realized this was going to be a torturous journey. His big, strong body was pressed hard against her back. She was nestled between his thighs like a lover. His long arms encircled her as he grasped the reins. It was an embrace, and one she would have to suffer for hours at a time. Each movement of his horse caused their bodies to rub together in some way. They had barely ridden out of the gates of the DeVeau keep before she began to suffer from the potent effects of his nearness.
    She tried to pull away. He pulled her back, holding her close in a firm yet painless grip. She tried to remain stiff, unyielding, but not only did that make her uncomfortable, it made her seat so precarious she could easily send them both tumbling out of the saddle. The image of Cameron gracelessly falling off his horse and sprawling in the mud was a pleasant one, but she could not ignore the danger to herself. She was lashed to the saddle by a rope that also bound her wrists together. She could all too easily join him in his fall and find herself dragged along the ground by a panicked mount. That would certainly steal some of the joy out of Cameron’s humiliation, she thought, almost smiling at her own fanciful musings.
    “I am glad to see ye are in a better mood,” Cameron said, catching the glimpse of a smile on her face.
    “Aye, I was just thinking of how fine ye would look facedown in the mud,” she replied sweetly.
    He quickly altered a chuckle into a cough. The woman needed no encouragement of her audacity. Despite the softness of the body pressed close to his, he realized there was finely honed steel shaping that delicate backbone. Even if he was right about the desire he could stir within her, she was right to say he faced a long, hard battle to gain anything from it. Cameron mused that, even if he brought her to her knees with the sharp ache of wanting, she would probably just try to crawl away.
    “If I fall, ye fall with me,” he said, not sure he meant just a tumble from his horse.
    “I ken it. ’Tis why I willnae try to kick ye out of the saddle.”
    “Such admirable restraint.”
    “I thought so. Ye are keeping a close watch on your back, arenae ye?”
    “Aye, e’en though ye are weaponless and in front of me.”
    “I meant, are ye watching for the DeVeaux? ’Twould nay surprise me if the murdering oafs tried to take back the blood money they paid you. Or decided they didnae want ye talking about all ye saw and did whilst in their keep.”
    “So, ye worry about my safety now.”
    “Such vanity. My wee cousin rides with us. I should like to see her get back to Scotland unharmed. And,” she added in a hard voice, “if anyone is to gut ye, ’tis I who should have that privilege.”
    “Ye are a hard woman, Avery Murray.” He gave an exaggerated sigh, then abruptly asked, “Why do ye so hate the DeVeaux?”
    “They are murdering swine. They may have left many of my kinsmen dead.”
    “Mayhap, but I think the hatred ye bear them is an old one, born long before this most recent crime.”
    For a moment Avery contemplated telling him it was none of his business, but only for a moment. The long feud between the DeVeaux and the Lucettes was no