Highlander's Ransom Read Online Free PDF Page B

her business and stumbled
back around the bush, only to find her captor looming in front of her. She
gasped in surprise, but quickly tried to mold her face into an unreadable mask,
as his was.
    “We will ride through the night,” he stated. She
thought that was all he would say, but after a second, he spoke again.
    “I am Robert Sinclair, Laird of the Sinclairs of
Roslin.”
     
    Despite the darkness, Robert saw realization flit
through her eyes. She had likely heard of the Battle of Roslin, though he
imagined that her countrymen had a different version of events than he did. She
didn’t speak on the matter, though, so he wasn’t sure what she made of his name
and title. It was just as well. He wanted this to go as smoothly as possible,
and he hoped she wasn’t the sort to ask too many questions. He took her by the
elbow and drew her back to where Burke and the others were. He hadn’t yet
spoken his plan to his second in command, but he didn’t need to—not yet anyway.
Burke followed his thinking about taking the lass for ransom. They would need
to discuss the matter further, though, but not now. He still itched to put more
distance between them and Warren’s lands. The closer they got to the Highlands,
the safer they would all be.
    He halted in front of Dash, his hand still wrapped
around Alwin’s elbow. She looked up into his face with a question in her eyes.
Hesitating for a heartbeat, he pulled an extra length of thick wool plaid from
his saddlebags and draped it around her shoulders. He had known she was
suffering from the cold, and for some reason he felt a twinge of guilt. That
didn’t mean anything, he told himself. After all, he was to blame for her being
here. Of course, Warren, the bastard, was also to blame for putting her in such
a dangerous situation, but Robert pushed his anger aside. Aye, he would be the
one dragging her along through the freezing night, and he could at least try to
ease her discomfort.
    Without acknowledging the surprised look on her face,
he lifted her onto Dash’s back, then mounted behind her. He gave a signal to
his men, and they pushed forward once again into the darkness. The lass seemed
to try to stay alert for a little while, but soon exhaustion must have
overtaken her, for she slumped against his chest and slept.
     
    Chapter 6
    As the warmth at her back vanished, Alwin stirred. She
felt a pair of warm, strong hands pulling her downward, and she opened her eyes
slowly. She was standing in front of her captor—Robert Sinclair, she reminded
herself. Weak winter sunlight tried to break through the clouds overhead,
casting the grey light of mid-morning. The events of the last twenty-four hours
began seeping back to her. They seemed surreal and dreamlike in her half-awake
state. The man in front of her was very much real, though. She had been
enveloped in his warmth and scent all night, a constant reminder of his
awe-inspiring visage. She had dreamed of those blue eyes boring into her,
looking at her with icy anger and something else—something…She couldn’t put her
finger on it but it was…intense.
    “We will rest here for a few hours,” he said, turning
from her to tend to his horse. His curtness frustrated her. Now that it seemed
she would be with him and his men for a while, she longed to know what they had
planned for her. He seemed to sense her eyes on him and turned back to her,
pinning her with a look before she could get her questions out. “Hold your
tongue or I will gag you again.”
    “I will not,” she said heatedly. “You can gag me if
you choose, but I want answers.” She noticed then that he had dark rings under
those light blue eyes. She had slept, but he had not. She felt some of the fire
drain from her, feeling a fluttering of guilt that she had taken his plaid and
nodded off for hours while he rode. But why should she feel bad? He had brought
her along with him, apparently to use her for his own gain. She would take
whatever kindness he