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

like a sleek cat, smelled like the woods, and exuded power. He was a man clearly used to being obeyed—a dangerous man, an unpredictable man, a man who was very unhappy that she was there—a terrible combination with her at its perilous center.
    She closed her eyes, and squaring her shoulders, she sat down, fanning out her soiled tunic. After crossing her ankles, she tore off a piece of bread and took a bite. She could feel the weight of his eyes on her. Sweet Jesus, she wanted to run. But what would happen to the mouse if the wolf caught her?
    He looked at her. His eyes started out cold, then flashed with fire. “What’s the question bitin’ at yer tongue?”
    She jumped a little in her seat but then swallowed her fear. “Are you going to kill me?”
    He smiled. And then to her surprise he threw his head back and laughed, showing white, even teeth. Her eyes widened with surprise. She certainly found nothing at all diverting about her question.
    “Fair enough, Princess. Let me put yer mind to rest. I have no wish to hurt ye. Earlier today I would have taken yer last coin and all yer bonny jewels, but my brothers and I would never have harmed ye.”
    “All of those men are your brothers?” she asked, her voice sounded small and soft, unrecognizable to her own ear. She was Lady Redesdale. She too was used to obedience. She sat a little straighter, imbuing her posture with strength she hoped would spread to her whole person.
    He nodded in answer.
    She took another bite of bread. “Why did you save me?”
    He shrugged and looked away.
    “Have I wronged you somehow? Or are you merely angry because you did not get your chance to rob me?” She felt her ire rising. She was tired of being afraid, and she would be damned if she was going to explain herself to a common highwayman. She jumped to her feet.
    “I demand you return me to my father, or if you wish you can take me on to my intended destination, my sister’s home at Ravensworth Castle.”
    “Ye can keep yer orders to yerself, Princess. As I’ve said before, ye’re not goin’ anywhere.”
    “If it is money you desire, then I assure you, my father will pay handsomely for my return.”
    “Ye’ve had my answer,” he said.
    She scowled, turning away. Sweat had gathered on her brow. The heat and stress of the day were undeniable. She pulled a handkerchief from beneath the cuff of her sleeve and dabbed at beads cascading down her temples. He grabbed her arm and jerked her back around.
    “I’ll never ken a noble woman’s attire. Ye’re suffocatin’ yerself in all that fuss.”
    “You speak as if I had some say in what I wear.” She paused and blatantly passed her gaze over his homespun shirt and hose. “Like your own attire, my dress is befitting my station.”
    For a moment, a sneer twisted his rugged features. She had pushed too far. He stepped forward, and to her surprise, his face softened. He cupped her cheeks between his rough palms, and leaned close. She trembled beneath the warm currents of his breath.
    “Why must convention cover a woman’s hair?” His fingers slid under the sides of her wimple where it met her cheeks. “It is almost always her greatest beauty.” His lips grazed her skin causing her heart to skip. Before she could draw her next breath, he ripped the fabric, exposing her head and neck. Her body betrayed her as a sigh of relief escaped her lips, having been released from her own personal prison.
    “What is yer name?” he said, uncoiling her hair.
    “Bella,” she breathed. “Is…Isabella.”
    He laced his fingers through her freed hair. Did he think the color beautiful? Her sable brown locks had always seemed plain to her at court—oh for pity’ sake, what did it matter? She should have been fighting his presumptuous attention. He was a thief and her abductor. She met his gaze with the intention of telling him exactly what he could do with his wandering hands, but the moment their eyes met, she was struck by his