“Ye haveseena baby before, though, aye?” he said curtly.
She blinked behind those strange, dark spectacles of hers, the shape almost like a cat’s eyes, and turned away. Her freckled cheeks pinkened in a way that made his fingertips itch to touch them, to see if they were as warm as they looked.
“Yes, of course I have,” she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. Lowering her voice, she grumbled, “Haven’t seen anyone hold a baby and a sword with the same ease, though.”
His lip curled as he watched his aunt cover her mouth with her hand, not doing much to hide the grin that had reached her mischievous eyes.
“What did ye say, sweetlin’?” Isla asked, though she clearly knew the answer.
Nancy gave a tight smile. “Nothing, really. I was just curious to know if it’s common for men around here to hold a baby and a blade at the same time. Seems to me like a safety hazard.”
Isla chuckled. “Ye just wait ‘til ye see a baby with a sword in hand. We start ‘em young here.”
Nancy eyed her with a healthy amount of suspicion, clearly trying to figure out if it was a jest or a threat.
“Where’s that accent from then, lass?” Isla continued. “Cannae say it’s familiar. Irish? Welsh, perhaps?”
Nancy leaned back in her chair and rubbed the back of her neck. She’d done that a lot since their initial meeting, and Hunter was beginning to think it wasn’t a trick, but a very real injury. Maybe she really didn’tknow where she’d come from or how she’d ended up at his gates, if she’d hurt her head.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she replied. “I don’t even believe it myself.”
Hunter held his daughter closer to his chest and covered her ear with his hand as he hissed, “Auntie, would ye cease talkin’ to me captive? Ye shouldnae be down here at all.”
“Captive?” Nancy and Isla echoed in unison, though it was only the mysterious stranger who suddenly made a run for the door.
I have to get out of here. This is a trap. This is one of those ‘don’t walk into the light’ moments.
Nancy yanked with all of her might on the iron ring that served as a door handle, but she couldn’t get the door to move.
I just have to leave through the gates I came through, and then I’ll wake up, and I’ll be in some hospital, and all the doctors will be so relieved.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the Laird hand his baby back to the woman who seemed to be his aunt. She was running out of time, seconds ticking down until he dragged her away from the door and called her his captive again. They were in a dungeon, after all. What had she thought was going to happen? That he was going to throw her a tea party?
“Come away from there,” his deep voice rumbled, his large hand falling on her shoulder.
Nancy whipped around. “What did I say about touching me without permission?” she snapped, her heart racing. Her gaze darted to her bag, left open in that carved-out recess. “I have to leave. I didn’t mean to come here. I’m sorry I ever did, but I’m no one’s captive.”
His arm curved around her waist, and with light pressure, he pushed her back, away from the door.
His strength took her breath away. He was barely exerting any effort whatsoever, but she couldn’t help but stumble back, unable to fight against the powerful push of that impressive arm.
Well,mostlyunable to fight back.
Giving in to the impulse that she’d suppressed earlier when admiring those muscular calves of his, she turned her head and bit him in the bicep… and almost broke a tooth.
To her surprise and irritation, he just raised a judgmental eyebrow and asked, “Did ye just bite me?”
“Of course she did,” the older woman with the incredible hair and regally beautiful face remarked with a tut. “Ye’re scarin’ the life out of her, but nay matter, because I willnae be leavin’ Freya’s new nursemaid in here.”
Nancy blinked, poking her front teeth with her tongue to make sure nothing had been chipped. “Pardon?”
Being a nanny to a squalling baby was only marginally preferable to being a prisoner, and she wasn’t even fully convinced of that. At least alone in a dungeon, there’d be peace and quiet.
The Laird seemed equally unimpressed by the job offer, as he moved his arm back to his side and drew in a deep breath that drew her gaze to his broad chest. She watched, mesmerized, as it rose and fell, wondering if his lungs could drink up way more air than most.
“What?” the woman—Isla, Nancy thought she’d heard the Laird say—replied with a determined look. “Nay one else has answered yer summons, and nay one is going to. Nae after what ye did, and certainly nae after what theysayye did.”
That made Nancy’s reporter senses prickle. She loved a good story and solving a decent mystery, and hearingthatfrom Islafed a little morsel to the monsters of her curiosity, increasing their appetite. Her professional curiosity, of course.
