Free Highland Hellcat (2010) by Mary Wine Page B

laird.
    “Lift yer arms, Brina, and loop them over my head.”
    Now she understood why he had tied her wrists in front of her body. There was even a small amount of rope between her hands so that he could keep her wrapped around his body while they rode.
    “I’ll hold on to yer belt.”
    He turned his head to look at her. “Ye’ll lose yer grip and fall once yer strength diminishes.”
    “I’ll take that risk, or better yet, place me back on my mare.”
    She heard him make a soft sound of frustration beneath his breath.
    “I will nae. So ye can lift yer arms, or I will have Shawe do it for ye.”
    Brina hissed at him. “Ye’re a brute to do such a thing. I’ve never placed my arms around a man, except my father when I was little.”
    He rotated his entire body, so that he almost facing her. “Are ye telling me that ye are too timid to touch me, lass?”
    “I am nae timid, simply dutiful to my sire’s word and the place that he has said is mine.”
    The words were out of her mouth before her wisdom warned her that challenging him wasn’t the best idea. If the man thought her timid, escape might be so much more possible.
    “Then place yer hands over my head and prove that the idea of pressing yer body against mine does nae disturb ye, little Brina.”
    Disturb her? It did far more than that, but her pride refused to allow her admit it. Saying it would only stroke the man’s ego.
    “Ye are acting like a barbarian to want to have me tied about ye like some prize ye took during a raid.”
    His eyes darkened. “But I do consider ye a prize worthy of stealing, lass. I wouldn’t be taking ye if I didna think that way.”
    His tone had deepened, and he was mocking her, but at the same time tossing a challenge at her that her pride was quick to rise to. She lifted her arms before thinking about it but came to her senses with her hands raised between them. She hesitated, berating herself for so quickly taking the bait he dangled in front of her nose. If she planned to escape from him, it would only be by thinking before she acted.
    Connor took advantage of her raised hands and put his hands through hers before she finished thinking. She caught a quick glance at a mocking grin on his lips before he raised his arms up and ducked his head beneath the circle of her bound arms. She had no choice but to rise up off the back of the horse for a moment when he straightened up. He caught her wrists inside his warm hands and pushed them down his body to his waist. She was pulled against his back; her only choice was which on side of his back she wished to place her chin.
    She snorted with frustration. That was no true choice, for the scabbard encasing his sword was strapped to his back so that the pommel rose above his left shoulder. She might place her face against that leather, but it was sure to give her bruises and possibly cuts, because the leather was well waxed to keep the sword from rusting in the Scottish weather.
    That left her the option of leaning against his right shoulder. His waist was trim, but her arms barely reached around him, and the amount of rope that he’d allowed between her wrists didn’t afford her the ability to keep a few inches between them. Her senses were filled with the scent of his skin and she felt an odd quiver in her belly. Connor urged the stallion forward at almost the same instant.
    She heard an owl’s cry, and his belly tightened beneath her hands as he made the noise. Many clans had a cry that was uniquely their own. The clouds were closing over the moon again. By using the owl’s cry, it would be very hard for her father’s men to track them. Connor knew the ground they traveled over well. He guided his horse through the trees, leaving the known roads well behind them.
    The motion of the horse bounced her, and she gasped when she landed hard on the most tender part of her body. Connor frowned.
    “Hug me tight and move yer hips with the motion of the horse, lass. I’ve seen ye