Jack: A Scottish Outlaw (Highland Outlaws Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

feet.
    “What are ye doin’?” Jack said as Ian marched over to the lady hugging her knees to her chest. Jack knew she must have been terrified. His conscience pricked again, but the desire to comfort her was chased away by the jewels adorning her headdress. Not surprising, however, was his youngest brother’s unfailing compassion. Ian’s kindness knew no limit, but danger to any man who invited Ian’s fury—his temper, once provoked, was a fearsome sight. Jack watched Ian closely as he dropped to one knee in front of the lass. She visibly tensed, clearly having sensed Ian’s presence.
    Ian unsheathed his dirk. “I’m puttin’ an end to this debate.”
    The lass scrambled away. “Hush now, lass,” Ian crooned, reaching for her. “This will not hurt.”
    Both Jack and Quinn lunged for Ian as his knife started toward the lady’s head, but then, in one quick motion, her blindfold fell away.
    ~ * ~
    Isabella blinked against the light as she scurried away from a large, black boot, but it followed after her. Her eyes traveled from the boot, up a thick, long leg. Corded muscles strained against the owner’s fitted hose. Her eyes journeyed further, beyond the impossibly large chest to the terrific masked facade. She screamed when the large man squatted in front of her.
    “Oh, sorry.” He reached for the top of his head and pulled off the mask.
    Her mouth dropped open in shock. A nervous giggle came unbidden to her lips. She had never been so surprised as she stared up into the kind, blue eyes of a young man no older than she. He had handsome features, a wide grin, and long, flaming red hair that fell below his chest. She had expected someone menacing, toothless, monstrous even…not a lad.
    “Ian, get away from her.”
    She looked passed Ian to one of three masked men standing in front of her. She recognized the voice as belonging to the man with whom she had ridden. The man she had assumed to be the leader. Ian winked at her. “I’m goin’ to pay for this one.” He stood up and backed away.
    “Now what do we do?” It was the masked man on her right who spoke.
    The man in the middle cursed before his hands reached out and yanked the mask off the heads of both men flanking him.
    The man on her left flashed her a smile that might have made her knees weak if received at court, but in a primitive camp full of thieves, it served only to fuel her fear, so too did the lecherous glint to his eye as his gaze roved over her with slow deliberation. His tongue wet his full, sensual lips. “My name is Rory, my lady,” he said with a bow. His beauty was wicked. Thick, black lashes framed pale, blue eyes. Curly, black hair grazed his shoulders, framing his chiseled jaw. Without returning his greeting or making her own introductions, she tore her eyes away and took in the other unmasked man.
    “Quinn, my lady,” he said with a bow.
    Quinn appeared older than both Ian and Rory but only by a handful of years. Quinn’s good looks were not as flashy as Rory’s but his rich black hair shone in the sun and his dark eyes scrutinized her with an intelligent air. Once again, she returned no greeting nor did she reciprocate introductions, not that it mattered as they would have learned her family name from the coat of arms displayed on her carriage.
    “Princess,” the man in the middle said, his voice dangerously soft. She narrowed her gaze as she strained to see through the mask still concealing his face.  “Follow me,” he said. He started toward a small, thatched hut that stood beneath the shade of a large oak tree. Her feet froze in place. Even if she had wished to follow, she could not. Weary and afraid, she simply could endure no more. She had no intention of following the large, masked stranger into the small, enclosed space.
    “As ye wish, my lady,” he growled. Then he stormed toward her. If she had sprouted wings, she would have been no less surprised. Lifting her skirt far too high for decorum, she bolted across