“Iain.”
“Aye.” He rose, pulling her to her feet. She bolted, but he yanked her to his side.
“Please.” She worked to pry his hands from her arm as he led her in the direction of his horse.
The desperation in her voice halted Iain’s march. Father Brennan gave her a fatherly pat on the arm. “All will be well, lass.”
She scowled. “What an absurd statement.”
Iain laughed and received a kick to the shin for the offense.
“I am to blame, child.” Father Brennan sighed. “I did not warn you to remain on holy ground when we had visitors.”
Iain angled his head in acknowledgment, then faced her. His brief inspection earlier suggested her long skirts hid feminine curves and shapely legs. Yet, her carriage had intrigued him above all. A woman of intellect and gentle breeding, she would suit him well. To his surprise, she had spared but a cursory glance in his direction before turning back to her book.
He touched the spot where cheekbone met eyes. “As blue as the waters of Loch Ericht.”
Startled understanding appeared in the blue depths and satisfaction rippled through Iain. Luck was with him today, luck and his captain’s suggestion that he visit Montrose Abbey to investigate rumors of trouble with the Menzies.
Her eyes narrowed. She shoved his hand away and faced Father Brennan. “You are saying that because I took one step too many in the wrong direction this…this man can take me and I have nothing to say about it?”
“Well, ’twas more than one,” Father Brennan corrected.
She gave an unladylike snort.
“Lass,” Iain cut in. “I am Iain MacPherson, leader of my clan. I will provide you a fine home and swear by God to keep you safe.”
Her severe expression turned with deliberation on him. “King are you—”
“Clan chief,” he corrected. “A difference King James is sure to appreciate.”
She raised a scornful brow. “That gives you the right to take me prisoner?”
“Nay, my lass.” Iain yanked her to his chest. “The fact I am a man gives me that right.”
Determined fury darkened her eyes. He tangled a hand in the soft tresses behind her neck and pulled her mouth to his. She shoved at his chest. Iain tasted her with slow consideration, not forcing the tightly clamped lips apart, despite the compelling desire to thrust his tongue inside. The length of him hardened to near pain and his heart pounded at breakneck speed, but he ended the kiss. She twisted in an effort to free herself, yet Iain didn’t miss the tremble in her body.
“Nathan, fetch my horse.”
The young warrior broke from the band and, a moment later, brought the horse up alongside with Iain’s sword strapped to its side.
“Hold fast the reins.”
Nathan complied and Iain lifted her. She braced her hands against the horse’s ribs, but he hoisted her into the saddle.
“You will keep her?” Father Brennan crossed his arms over his chest.
“Aye.” Iain kept an arm around her waist as she tried to slide down the opposite side.
The priest nodded. “Since you take advantage of her stepping from holy ground, you will abide by the law and wait until she consents.”
“She will wed me of her own free will,” Iain stepped into the saddle and encircled her waist as he took the reins that were handed to him.
“That is not what I mean and you know it.” “I do not force women,” Iain replied. “Perhaps because no woman has ever refused you before?”
Iain locked gazes with the priest. “Beware that your good intentions do not take you too far, Father. You know I have never taken an unwilling woman.”
“Liar,” the lady interjected.
Iain leaned her back in his arm and stared into her eyes. “You do not know me, lass. Why say such a thing?”
“I am unwilling, yet you force me to go with you.”
For an instant her logic confused him and memory of another woman made captive by a man who claimed love flitted through his mind. “Aye,” Iain agreed, through tight lips. “But you will choose to marry me.” He gave a quiet order to one of his men and pulled on the reins, once again wheeling his horse away from the abbey. “Come to us in ten days, Father,” Iain threw back before they were out of earshot.
“He will only come to bring me back,” she said through clenched teeth. “I will never marry you.”
Chapter Two
A drop of moisture splattered on Iain’s forearm. He looked heavenward. Gray clouds edged past a sun that hung low in the western horizon, but no rain threatened. He reined in his horse and leaned the woman back in the crook of his arm. Tears distorted the blue irises that stared back at him. She pushed wildly at his chest as if to scramble to a far corner of the saddle, and he realized his arm had tightened around her.