Free Black Raven's Lady: Highland Lairds Trilogy by Kathleen Harrington Page B

respective ships.
    “I think it’s time for our interview now,” Keir said, suddenly standing beside her. He clasped her elbow and led her down the companionway to her small cabin.
    Once inside he folded his arms across his chest and glared at her. He didn’t waste a minute getting to the point. “Why did you tell me that cock-and-bull story about a cousin needing your help during childbirth?” he demanded. “And this time, Lady Raine, I’d like to hear the truth. ’Twould be a welcome change, if nothing else.”
    Raine hung her head and bit her lip in an attempt to look penitent, while she ransacked her brain for a suitable—and believable—answer.
    But Keir was evidently at the end of his patience. At her delaying tactic, he made a sudden move toward her, and for a split second Raine thought he was going to grab her and shake the daylights out of her. Instead he braced both hands on the wooden beam over her head, effectively trapping her without actually touching her. In the cramped space between his massive frame and her bunk, she was forced to tip her head back to meet his eyes, blazing now with what she could only assume was pure rage. Over twice her weight, with a body hewn of solid muscle, he hovered over her, and Raine had the unsettling sensation of being smothered by his overwhelming presence.
    Her mouth suddenly dry, she tried to swallow and her throat constricted so painfully tears sprang to her eyes. When she attempted to draw a deep, steadying breath, she made what sounded like a child’s frightened whimper. She all but choked on her humiliation. She wasn’t going to wail like a scared halflin in front of him.
    Not Keir, of all people.
    She blinked her lashes furiously, making a desperate attempt to stop the tears. She wasn’t some insipid miss, who resorted to crying to get her own way.
    Keir watched the crystal drops clinging to Raine’s long black lashes and steeled himself against her utter femininity. He clutched the timber overhead with whitened knuckles, while he beat back the sexual desire coursing through his veins.
    He realized too late, he should never have taken Raine into the privacy of her cabin. Not half-crazed with jealousy. Not pulsing with white-hot lust.
    He’d reacted to Colin MacRath’s attention to Raine like a possessive suitor. But dammit, the broad-shouldered redhead’s prowess in bed had been the talk of the Scottish court that previous summer. Raine certainly must have heard the clattering tongues gossiping about Colin’s exploits in Lady Diana Pembroke’s bedroom.
    “What did you give Colin just now?” Keir growled.
    Raine stared at him as though he were mad.
    “I saw you give him something before he left,” Keir insisted. “What was it? A love token?”
    “Why would you think that?” she said on a tiny hiccup of laughter. “I gave him a faery arrow to protect him. I gave one to Walter as well. In the past I’ve given them to Fearchar and Tam.”
    “But never to me.”
    “Why would I give one to you?” she asked in obvious bewilderment. Her brilliant eyes widened at the thought. “You don’t believe in magic.”
    Bringing his hands down from the beam overhead, Keir stepped back and moved to the door. His gaze swept the room’s Spartan furnishings before meeting her expressive eyes. “You’ll remain here in your cabin, Lady Raine, until you’re ready to tell the truth. I want to know why you’re so intent on going to Steòrnabhagh that you’d stoop to lies and deceit.”
    Raine stared at the closed door, astounded and bewildered by Keir’s behavior. Why would he care what she’d given to Colin? It didn’t make sense.
    What did make sense, however, was her pressing need to devise a believable reason for wanting to go to Steòrnabhagh. For she surely couldn’t tell Keir the truth. If he knew she was trying to reach Torcall MacMurchaidh—the man he believed to be a traitor—Keir would do everything in his power to prevent it.
    W ITHIN THE SPACE