Page 20 of My Notorious Highlander

"Calm down, sweet Jessie." 'Twas Gregor MacBain's unnerving voice. He came around from the right and stopped in front of her. One of his men still held her restrained.

"You bastard! What do you want from me?" she demanded.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I but want to marry you so we may have a lifetime of happiness." He gave her a broad smile which was clearly false.

"Do you think this is going to cause me to want to marry you? Nay, just the opposite."

"A lot of men kidnap their future wives. It has a long history of success in the Highlands," he said, his grin now smug.

"Not here. All you want is my dowry, and the land my brother will give you. You don't care one whit about me."

"Now, you ken that is not true, m'lady. I care a great deal about you," he said in a placating tone.

She knew he was lying, for he'd only shown up again after he'd gotten wind of her increased dowry. Why had Dirk done that? Did he want her married off so badly to whoever was greediest? That was the same reason Torrin had come. He was land-hungry, too. Although 'haps not as much as MacBain.

"Come quietly and no one will be harmed." MacBain glanced over his shoulder, toward the castle. "Bring her to the horses," he told the man restraining her.

MacBain led them between the sand dunes, the high grasses providing extra cover from anyone who might be watching from the castle's battlements.

She screamed again as loud as possible. "Help! Help me!"

"Be quiet," MacBain said through clenched teeth. "You leave me no choice." He dragged a handkerchief from inside his doublet.

"Nay!" She shoved her knee upward into his groin.

"Umph!" He doubled over clutching at his stones, which she had hopefully smashed into dust.

She tried to twist from the other man's grip, but his hands only tightened on her wrists.

Raising up, MacBain slapped her hard across the face. "You witch! Don't you ever do that to me again."

Pain sliced through her cheek. One thing he could be certain of—if he forced her to marry him, she would soon be a widow, for she would kill him.

"Edward! Help him hold her," he commanded.

MacBain's two men held her firmly in place while MacBain tied the gag through her mouth. Ugh! It tasted salty with his sweat. Gagging and coughing, she bent forward, hoping she didn't actually vomit.

"Bring her this way," MacBain said.

She pretended to comply for a couple of minutes. When she felt her captor's hands loosen a tiny bit around her wrists, she elbowed him in the stomach and yanked her arms. One of her wrists slipped from his grip. She wrenched away from him and ran through the dunes, her feet digging into the soft sand.

"Capture her!" MacBain ordered.

Tugging off the disgusting gag and throwing it, she raced through the grasses and gorse bushes, thorns tearing at her clothing and skin, leaving burning scratches. Her right foot sank deep into the sand. She stumbled and fell to her knees.

Blast!

"Ha!" One of the men on her heels grasped her arisaid from the back. "Got you, lass."

She slid her hand to her ankle and pulled the small sgian dubh hidden there from the sheath. She turned and stabbed his shoulder.

"Ow! Bitch!"

Two more men joined him, tackling her to the ground, almost crushing her beneath their combined weight. One yanked the knife from her hand.

"Get off me!"

"Don't force us to hurt you," MacBain warned, standing somewhere over her while the others held her face-down, the sand cutting into her cheek. She wanted to hurt him. Badly.