Free Prisoner of Desire by Isadora Rose

Chapter One
     
     
    Scotland, 1224
     
    Sir Alasdair Donachie strode through the vast, stone-bricked hall, surveying all that he saw with grim satisfaction. As he tore away his armour and tossed it disdainfully to the squire who was scurrying along behind him, his thin lips curved back into an arrogant, self-satisfied smile.
    It had been a hard-fought battle to gain Glen Carrick, but he had never doubted his ability to win through. He had long wanted the keep for his own, and had anticipated that it would now be easy to take; the laird had died the previous winter, leaving it vulnerable and defended only by the old laird’s maiden daughter, Isobel Macnair. To his surprise and frustrated humiliation, she had proven to be a formidable and spirited opponent, and under her command the keep had held out against him and his men for far longer that he had anticipated would be the case.
    Now, though, Glen Carrick was his – and so was its lady. The brief glimpses that Alasdair had received of Isobel commanding her men from the battlements had been more than enough to inflame a fiery desire for her, and the battle-lust that was still ferociously pounding in his blood was now driving him to seek her out to teach her the consequences of daring to defy him for so long.
    Isobel, though, was nowhere to be seen. His fury grew rapidly as he came to the conclusion that she had deliberately and disrespectfully hidden herself away from the conqueror of Glen Carrick. Alasdair’s face reddened as he heard his name being called from the rear of the hall. ‘What is it?’ he snapped curtly as he turned sharply on his heel to face his most trusted friend, Douglas Boyd.
    ‘Alasdair, we can take stock of the keep for you!’ Douglas caught up to his side and clapped him on the back. ‘I had thought after seeing the look in your eyes when we saw Lady Isobel yesterday morning that you would already be locked away with her, making her aware of how things will be run from now on.’
    Alasdair chuckled, but his laugh was entirely lacking in humour. ‘That was my intention, aye, but it seems that the wee lass is too afraid to come out and face her new laird. Douglas, I want this keep turned upside down and razed to the ground if necessary to find her – do you hear me, Isobel?’ He abruptly raised his voice in anger as a hushed, terrified silence fell over the hall. ‘Come out from wherever you are hiding now, wench, or I will unleash my men upon all the pretty maids cowering against the walls of this grand hall!’
    A delighted ripple of laughter spread throughout the ranks of men as they advanced into the hall, streaming forth as the defenceless women whimpered in horror; Alasdair had commanded that all the men of Glen Carrick who had fought against him be killed once he had broken through the outer walls, and his men had faithfully carried out the command. There were none left to prevent him from doing exactly as he wanted – but there was only one woman he now desired for his own.
    ‘Well?!’ His snarl rang out as he began to prowl back and forth as he waited. ‘I warn you now, my lovely, I am not a patient man! Come to me now, or they will all suffer for your disobedience. You have ten seconds to join me at my side, Isobel...’
    A small oaken door on Alasdair’s left that he had not before noticed slowly creaked open. His heart raced with gleeful, triumphant anticipation and he turned to face it directly as one of the other women leapt to her feet. ‘Isobel, no!’ she screamed desperately, and Alasdair clicked his fingers irritably. One of his men darted forwards to silence the woman, dragging her into his body and restraining her tightly with one hand over her mouth and the other groping painfully at her breasts.
    ‘Aye, very good,’ Alasdair said approvingly before fixing his attention once more on the small chamber from which Isobel was slowly emerging. His grey eyes widened with delight, for now that he could see and admire her