KIDNAPPED BY THE HIGHLAND ROGUE Read online

  Letting out a sigh, she closed her eyes against the inevitable truth of her current visit to this place. She had gotten what she’d always wished for and it was nothing like what she’d thought it would be. She might not even survive it.

  The sun began its downward slide to dusk and the winds kicked up dust in the clearing. Fia stood then and felt the chill air on her face. A storm was coming and coming quickly. The mountains here seemed to funnel the storms around them, but this one would not pass them by. The fact that winter was over would not protect them from the ravages of spring storms here that could suddenly move in with strong winds and heavy rain or snow that could last for days.

  ‘Iain,’ she called out. He’d been speaking to Lundie and surprise filled his eyes when she spoke his name. ‘A storm comes.’

  Iain and Lundie and the others seemed to take notice now of the shift in the winds. Were none of them from this area or from the Highlands? Only strangers or outlanders would not know what to watch for as the seasons changed and the skies could be turbulent and unpredictable.

  ‘I have seen this before, Iain. A spring storm comes and we must take cover,’ she explained as the men turned their attention to her. ‘The supplies should be moved inside...the cave.’ She’d almost given away her one advantage then. She must be cautious. ‘The horses should be sheltered, too,’ she urged.

  Neither man nor beast would be able to withstand what could be heading at them now. Iain approached and took her by the shoulders, as though staring at her would reveal some truth.

  ‘Is this an attempt to escape again?’ he asked.

  ‘Escape is not a choice now. Not with the coming storm.’

  The silence around them only magnified the growing strength of the winds. The men grumbled a bit amongst themselves and looked to Lundie for his orders.

  ‘Martainn and Anndra, gather the supplies. Conran and Micheil, secure the horses in the break there. Iain Dubh, have ye found a cave larger than the one ye put her in?’

  ‘Aye,’ Iain said, pointing to a familiar place. ‘The one that opens behind these trees is larger. It should fit all of ye.’ Lucky for her, Iain had looked around the area. Otherwise, she’d have been in the difficult situation of whether or not to reveal how much she knew about this place.

  With a few shouted orders and a little time, everyone had moved their belongings and supplies inside. She noticed that they were very adept at closing up and moving their camp when need be. Essentials like buckets of water and dry wood were brought in as well. By the time the first thick, wet snowflakes fell, everything and everyone had been settled inside one cave or the other.

  Fia helped as she could until Iain grabbed her by the hand and took her to the smaller cave he’d claimed as his. They ran faster as the snow came down thicker every moment and she was out of breath when they entered. Although she had not seen it being done, some of the supplies had been brought here as well.

  ‘So, Ilysa,’ Iain asked as she sat on a wooden box, ‘how long will this storm last?’

  She shrugged and shook her head. Storms now were the most unpredictable of the whole year. And she did not watch and study the weather as the farmers and others did.

  ‘Hours to days, I would guess,’ she said.

  As he began to ask another question, the truth struck her—none of them were from the Highlands. If they had been, one or more of them would have understood the changeable weather and dangerous storms here. And, if none were from the Highlands, then none of them could be Camerons.

  At every attack there had been a sign of The Camerons left behind. Pieces of wool tartan usually caught on a branch or underfoot marked the attacks as their work. She’d heard Brodie discussing it several times with his counsellors and with his wife—a Cameron herself. The reason they’d left Drumlui was to travel to Achnacarry and discuss the matter with the newest chief of the Clan Cameron.

  None of them were Camerons.

  So who was behind these attacks? Her gaze moved to Iain and she realised he was staring at her, waiting for something.

  ‘Well?’ he asked.

  ‘Pray, repeat your question,’ she said softly, now listening to him.

  ‘I said ’twill be a long few hours to days if you sit in silence.’

  He walked over to a lantern she’d not seen before and lit it, the flame sending shifting shadows against the stone walls. Fia waited for him to ask his question again, trying to gather her thoughts and not say the wrong thing in reply.

  ‘I asked how you know so much about the weather.’ He stood now directly across the cave from her, watching her closely.

  ‘I have lived in this area all my life. My parents worked the land and knew how to watch for the changes that signalled storm or snow.’ She brushed her loosened hair out of her face. ‘They learned to listen and watch so that their crops and herds could survive.’

  ‘And the Mackintoshes have been fruitful on their lands,’ he said.

  ‘Is that why you attack us? Are your people jealous of our success?’ she asked. Now it was her chance to observe him. ‘Or do you want something we have?’

  Fia did not put a name to his people. Let him think what he willed. She had a care since no one outside of Brodie and his closest counsellors and wife—and his wife’s maids—knew about the connection between the attacks and The Camerons. He’d made certain to keep that a secret from everyone but the few people who must know it.

  He met her gaze then and the edge of his left eyebrow seemed to twitch. Only the tiniest bit and only for a bare moment. But she’d seen it.

  ‘Mayhap we are only looking for a bit of fun?’ he asked. He shrugged now. ‘Mayhap we were bored and sought some entertainment?’

  He was lying. The twitch in his brow told her that. Fia wondered if he knew of it. She supposed that she’d been watching the people surrounding Brodie, both kith and kin and the many strangers who visited him, that she had noticed those kinds of revealing gestures and expressions before. A question came to her, but she did not want to pry...yet. So, she shrugged.

  ‘Mayhap you were.’ She nodded at the lantern, changing their topic of discussion. ‘Where did you find that?’

  ‘In one of the other caves. This area is riddled with them. And ’tis clear that they have been used before.’

  ‘Places like this exist all over the area,’ she said. ‘Further north, there are shielings that are used during the summer while the cattle graze but they’ve saved many a life when a storm moves in unexpectedly.’

  ‘Just so,’ he said, looking away. Had she irritated him with her knowledge? Had he ever travelled the drovers’ roads and seen the shielings?

  ‘Now that we have hours ahead and a bit of privacy,’ he said, turning back to her once more, ‘what will we do to fill the time?’ His words and tone were not particularly lewd, but Fia doubted not his intentions.

  ‘If I had a needle and thread, it would be a fine time to repair my gown,’ she said.

  She’d spoken the truth and answered his question—though from his surprised expression, he’d not expected it. So when he leaned his head back and laughed loud and long, she could not help but smile in return.

  His appearance changed so much when he smiled that way. His eyes lightened and he looked younger, though she had no idea of his age. His unruly hair moved as he laughed and she wanted to reach out and push it from his eyes. Instead, she slid her hands under her and watched his reaction.

  ‘Do you not wish to wear my trews any longer then? I can always help you off with them,’ he said. He was back to innuendo and suggestive language. She knew men in Drumlui who teased the laundry maids and other servants with such talk. It had never impressed her. Not when the young men in attendance to Brodie tried it and not when strangers or courtiers visited and thought to make connections with her as a way to get to the lord and lady.


  ‘Does that work?’ she asked. ‘Speaking words with double meanings like that.’ He stopped laughing and looked at her in a shocked kind of silence. She guessed that no one had ever asked him such a thing. ‘Do women fall into your waiting arms when you say such things?’ He seemed to think about her question and then nodded slowly at her.

  ‘Well, in truth, aye, it does usually work,’ he said. ‘Many of them do.’

  His words now were filled with a masculine smugness that told her he did win over the affections of women like that. Not that his appearance did not help—with those wicked blue eyes and his tall, muscular build. Well, she suspected he would fare so much better with a good wash and some clean garments.

  Which made her realise she was sitting there with her legs on full view to a man who was neither kith nor kin. Worse, he was a man intent on having his way with her and his gaze thoroughly examined her legs and every other bit of her.

  But he’d not yet. And that puzzled her. Even more so, she wondered why he had not retaliated for her attempt to knock him witless earlier at the stream. He had knocked her to the ground and wrestled her until he...kissed her in that possessive way. She swore her lips tingled even now. As she reached up to touch them, she noticed he was watching her closely. Worse, the smile that lifted the edges of his lips told her he knew she was thinking on it now.

  ‘So, do you have a needle and thread?’ she asked, trying to ease the growing tension between them. ‘I could mend your garments, too,’ she offered.

  ‘Would it surprise you to find out I do indeed have such things?’

  A needle and some sturdy thread would also be used to repair injuries received during fights and attacks, she thought. Fia glanced at the supplies that lay strewn around the cave and remembered the rest of them in the other cave. They did seem to be well supplied and would need to be able to see to themselves.

  ‘I would suppose not, considering what I have seen already.’

  He got up and searched for a small wooden box, no bigger than her hand. Handing it to her, he brought the lantern closer, too. She pried the tight lid off and found sewing needles and several spools of thread inside. All she needed were...

  ‘If you promise not to use them on me,’ he said, holding out a pair of shears. He had not forgotten about her using the pot as a weapon and his words told her he would not underestimate her again.

  She nodded acceptance of his terms and took the shears. Without new laces for the front of her gown, she could cut narrow strips of fabric from the hem, twist them tightly and use them to tie up the front of it. Though this was not the first time she’d worn trews, the thought of wearing his bothered her.

  A blast of cold air shoved its way into the cave, past the canvas flap that served as a makeshift door, making her shiver. The flame in the lantern flickered but remained burning. He got up again, pacing around the cave until he searched in another sack and pulled out a cloak. Her cloak. She’d thought it lost until now. Iain walked to her side and dropped it over her shoulders.

  ‘My thanks,’ she said quietly. She adjusted it around her, keeping her hands free to work on her gown.

  She lost herself in the task, letting go of her fears for the moment and concentrating only on the fabric on her lap. Even in the inadequate light thrown off by the lantern, her hands moved quickly and accurately. Most of the time she could do it without watching or paying heed—a talent developed because she wanted to watch or listen to whatever was going on around her. But some of the time, like this moment and in this situation, she let the mending pull her in so she would not think about what she could not fix.

  With the winds howling, the snow falling and her captor at her side, watching her every move, she knew she could not change this. She glanced at the canvas flap when another strong burst sent it fluttering and considered what actions she could take and when.

  The weather could be a help to her efforts to escape.

  If she could get out of the cave, she could use the snow or rain and winds to mask her as she sought out the secret tunnels that would lead her off the mountain.

  But, if she left now, she would never discover their true purpose.

  If she escaped they would no doubt ride away rather than get caught if she brought Brodie and others back to hunt them down. And their identities and the true reasons for the attacks would remain unknown. She let out a sigh then, which drew his attention. Shaking her head, she bent to her task once more.

  However, she was no fool to think she was safe here. She faced many dangers, including the seven outlaws now sheltering among the caves. Any one of them could harm her or worse. So, the sooner she got away, the better. Just telling Brodie what she’d discovered about them would help him find the true culprit or culprits behind this campaign of attacks.

  The more she thought about it, the more she realised that if The Camerons were not guilty, then someone was trying to make them look it. And the reason she could come up with for someone to do that would be to stir up trouble between clans who’d long been enemies and only recently settled their feud.

  Who would want to make trouble for Brodie and Arabella’s families? Who would benefit from such strike and feuding? Unfortunately, she did not know a wide enough circle of those powerful enough to want this or make it happen. But Brodie would. If she could get back to Drumlui...

  ‘You are thinking so hard I can almost hear your thoughts, lass,’ Iain said from across the cave. He’d leaned against the wall, with his long legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles. ‘Mayhap you can share your thoughts with me and I can help you solve whatever problem is vexing you?’

  Once more, he was playing the rogue. The sensual undertones in his voice were extremely tempting. No wonder women fell into his arms and into his bed.

  ‘I am but concentrating on my task, sir,’ she answered without lifting her gaze to his. She knew that she would see the icy depths of his blue eyes blaze with wicked amusement if she did look. ‘If I do not prove myself able to mend garments, you might find another more onerous chore for me to carry out.’

  Damn and hell, what a foolish thing to do!

  She had responded in words that came dangerously close to sounding like his own. When he stood and walked the few paces to where she sat, Fia felt the tension grow. He knelt before her, took the gown with the needle and thread still in it from her hands and tossed it aside. Then he grabbed the shears and pushed them far enough away from her that she could not reach them.

  ‘Enough cooking and cleaning and mending, Ilysa. You owe me a boon,’ he said. With one finger, he lifted her chin until she could not avoid looking into his eyes.

  ‘A boon?’ she asked in a whisper. Was it now? Would he...would they...now?

  ‘For not revealing your murderous intent to Lundie and the others.’ His finger slid along her jaw and on to her neck, making her tremble. From fear? From anticipation? She knew not which.

  ‘For controlling myself when other lesser men would have taken full advantage of having a woman like you within reach.’ Now his finger traced the edge of the tunic she wore. She could not breathe. She could not look away as he slid that one finger up the other side of her neck, teasing the edge of her ear before stroking along her jaw.

  ‘So tell me, Ilysa,’ he whispered as he leaned in closer. Only a scant inch separated their mouths and when he spoke again, Fia could feel his heated breath against her lips. ‘Must I take my boon or will you give it freely?’

  Chapter Eight

  Niall had never been indecisive in his life. Once committed to something, he remained that way until the need for it was past. If asked to make choices, he made them without whining or bemoaning. When the King, his godfather, had offered him everything he’d lost in exchange for finding out the true culprit behind the growing hostilities, Niall had agreed in less than a minute.


  Yet, kneeling here before this woman, he could not make up his mind whether he wanted to have her or to walk away completely. Oh, his randy bits had made their decision, but all of the consequences and ramifications of becoming intimate with her confused and delayed him.

  His rational mind told him to claim a boon of truthfulness and discover more about this woman and her place in The Mackintosh clan. More about The Mackintosh himself. More about The Camerons. He needed facts to seek the one he needed to find for the King. He needed to complete this mission and report back to the King. He needed his mother and sister freed and his lands and titles and wealth returned to him.

  But after watching that mouth of hers while she worked, worrying her teeth over her lower lip and then touching it with the tip of her tongue, his randy bits wanted...her. Desire so strong it would have brought him to his knees had he not already been on them flooded him, heating his blood and making his flesh even harder.

  He’d sensed an innocent’s curiosity in their last kiss and so Niall knew that tupping her would not make her amiable and willing to give him anything. So, tupping was not a choice in this. Knowing it and even accepting that decision did not make it easier to control the growing need within him for her. Of course, if tupping were her idea, he would be amenable to that, but from the expression in her eyes, one of both fear and curiosity, that would not happen soon.

  The wind whipped up outside just then and the snow fell even harder, reminding him that they had hours or possibly days here together. Niall smiled at her then.

  ‘So, what is this boon you intend to claim?’ she asked.

  ‘This time...’ he began.

  ‘This time?’ She pushed back, falling off the wooden box beneath her and rolling on to her knees. ‘What do you mean “this time”?’

  ‘Each time I must protect you or hide your behaviour,’ he said, ‘or answer your questions I will claim a boon.’