Free Rogue's Challenge by Jo Barrett Page A

inside and out. Screaming, arguing, theorizing ... kissing. Heaven help him. He would not be a sane man by the end of this journey.
    He cast a glance or two her way and noted her brow furrowed in concentration. Some new argument simmering in her brain, no doubt. But thankfully, the woman said naught until they rode into the small port.
    "What is the ratio of Scots to English on the island?” she asked.
    "Beg pardon, lass?” Michael asked.
    Ian cast his eyes heavenward in thanks that her latest undertaking was in learning more about the island's inhabitants and not a new way to torture him with her theories. “There is no ratio,” Ian said. “None worth counting, at any rate."
    She cast him a puzzled look. “I see."
    Ian noted her brow furrow deeper with the information, and hated how much he longed to know what was going on inside her pretty head. Irritating she may be, but she was exceedingly bright, most of the time.
    He moved to help her from her horse. Michael could've aided her, and he'd decided as much after their previous stop, but he found the strangest desire to not let another man touch her.
    Ian blinked away the thought and grasped her waist. “Stay with us at all times. Do not wander off."
    "Don't be ridiculous. I can't see where to wander.” She peered around him at the bustle of the many people coming and going. “I do find it fascinating, just the same."
    "I shall see to getting us across the loch,” Ian said, handing the woman over to Michael. “Do not let go of his arm,” he said, leaning close to her ear. “You would be a fine prize to a less than honorable man."
    She cast him a look, but he noted her faint shiver. “Are you trying to frighten me?"
    "I am only departing the truth, mistress. I shall return in due time.” He walked away, her sweet puzzled frown bringing a grin to his lips.
    "Was that some sort of twisted compliment?” Jenny hadn't meant to ask the question aloud and hoped Michael hadn't heard, but his low chuckle proved otherwise.
    "I doona think he meant tae compliment you, so much as warn you. You are a woman, and without a mon tae guard you, you would no’ be safe."
    Her feminist side bristled at the comment, but he was right. Without her glasses and armed with no more than a few defensive moves Tuck had taught her, she wouldn't hold up too well against a full assault. Her size was a very big hindrance in that regard, and from what she could see, all the blurry people hurrying about were a good deal bigger than her. Well, it was a port full of fishing vessels and the like, and fisherman had to be strong to bring in their catch so it made sense.
    "But surely no one would accost me in broad daylight,” she said.
    "'Tis a port, lass. Full of all sorts. Ye canna be tae careful."
    "I suppose.” She hadn't expected things to be this dangerous, if Michael and Ian were to be believed, but there was that man in the woods. Perhaps she should've stayed at the castle after all.
    * * * *
    Vernon cursed thoroughly. She'd evaded him again. He should've taken his chance in the woods and grabbed her. But the Englishman and the Scot riding with her—and their swords—made him think twice, and those extra seconds had cost him the opportunity. He would've had to shoot them, most likely. Not that he wasn't prepared to do that, but he'd rather not kill anyone if he could help it. Except for that snake, Maxwell. There was a man he wouldn't mind blowing away.
    No sense in thinking on it now, he'd missed the opportunity. He'd heard enough to know they were in search of some new glasses for the brat. That would be troublesome, because if she saw him, really saw him, she might recognize him and ruin everything. He had to get her before she found any glasses. And with the mass of confusion around the boat, he might just find a way.
    * * * *
    Ian was gone only for a few minutes, but long enough for Michael to answer Jenny's many questions regarding the fishing and other interesting tidbits about the