Page 7 of The Highlander’s Untamed Lady

Diana could not pull her gaze from the Mackenzie man. He still crouched beside Hera, his hands buried in her thick fur with soothing strokes. Large hands, she’d noticed. Hands capable of killing. And yet apparently healing as well. He’d been gentle and kind with Hera.

“You want me to touch the wall and marry you in Scotland?” Diana stood. “Do you always ask such a high price for your favors?”

“Depends on the favor.” He kept his face serious, but a hint of suggestion tinged his voice and sent a ripple down her spine.

“Do you intend for me to fall madly in love with you?” She tried to swallow, but her throat seemed to stick against itself. The burning thirst was impossible to ignore.

The man gave a final pat to Hera’s head and rose. His stare fastened on the opposite wall, marked with a deep, unmistakable red stain. He considered it for a long moment. “If ye believe in such things.”

“Do you?” Diana looked up at him. He was taller than her. Most men were not. Lean muscle corded his forearms where he’d pulled up his sleeves to work on Hera’s wound.

He tucked his dagger into his belt, and that was when she saw it. A wineskin tied to his pack, drooping with a heavy fullness that left her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth with longing.

He considered the stain, oblivious of her observation “I think I’d like to believe this one.”

She shifted her gaze to him. “Why?”

She could ask for the wineskin. Drink it. God, drink and drink and drink it. Once her thirst was slaked, she could agree to touch the stain. While he was distracted with whatever romance he intended they share, she could pull his blade and run free with the wolves.

She glanced at Hera. The wolf wouldn’t be able to run. Diana would have to carry her again.

“I dinna want us to be together because we dinna have a choice,” the Mackenzie said. “I want to care about ye and have ye care about me.”

“Can I have some first?” she asked, pointing to the wineskin.

He hesitated a moment before untying it from his pack. “It’s ale. Have as much as ye want. I’ve plenty more in the carriage.”

Diana almost moaned with the prospect. It would slake her painful thirst and fill her empty stomach. Her entire world centered on the wineskin, the beckoning of its promise to be everything she yearned for with a painful, visceral need.

He handed it to her. She eagerly accepted it and pulled the stopper free with trembling hands. She threw her head back, gulping hearty swallows of crisp ale while drips of it trailed from the corners of her mouth and trickled down her chest. It was spicy and sweet with a hint of honey and wet. Gloriously wet and refreshing. She wanted to keep going, drinking until she drowned in it. But her wolves needed some as well.

Once she’d had her fill, she cupped her hand and fed it first to Hera, then Zeus.

They lapped as greedily as she’d drank until the wineskin was flimsy and light in her hands. Diana straightened from where she’d bent over Zeus and gave a satisfied sigh. The Mackenzie man had been kind. It was a pity he was so determined to take her to Scotland. He was leaving her with very little choice.

She handed him his almost empty wineskin and lowered her gaze at him with what she hoped was a becoming expression. “Are you sure you want to touch the bloodstain?” she asked.

His eyes darkened, and a slow warmth low in her belly told her she was doing exactly what she needed to distract him. “Aye,” he said. “I do. With ye.”

Diana led him to the wall. It would take only a moment to grab his dagger. She waited by the stain. Her heartbeat came faster as her body prepared for a fight for freedom.

This time she’d make sure he didn’t follow her.

She smiled up at him. “We must touch it together.”

His right hand hovered over the stone wall in wait for her to join him. Diana lifted her left hand to keep her dominant one free. Together they pressed palms to the cave wall. The stone beneath was not cold as Diana had expected. It was warm. Hot. Like freshly spilled blood.

Her eyes widened in surprise. She snapped her attention to the Mackenzie and the world around her spun, swaying and tipping until the only thing keeping her upright was the very deep green of his steady eyes.

“The stone is warm,” she said.

“Is it supposed to be?” he asked.

The world righted itself once more.

Now.

Rather than answer, Diana lunged forward and grabbed the hilt of his dirk. She tugged it free and stepped back, putting a safe distance between them. Zeus leapt to her side. “I’m not going to Scotland with you,” she said.