Page 67 of The Highlander’s Improper Wife

Her heart went stone cold. Her father? Fear of the unknown morphed into an altogether different sort of terror. “What have you to do with my father?” He gave a nasty laugh, but didn’t answer.

Anger roared to life. With a sudden burst of energy, she slapped his face. He yanked back on the reins and seized her shoulders. Her injury felt as if it was on fire. He jerked her face so close to his, her stomach roiled with the sweet stench of his breath.

“You want to end up like your father?”

Her heart thundered and her mind reeled, but she brought her face even closer to his. “What have you to do with my father?”

His fingers flexed on her shoulders. She winced at the feel of poker hot pain radiating from her injury, but didn’t flinch from his gaze.

“When Etherton is finished with you, I pray he gives you to me.” He forced her against his chest and urged the horses forward again.

Confusion swirled in a dense fog around her. Uncle?

“He will, you know.”

Caroline stiffened at sound of the voice that could have belonged to any nobleman of the ton.

“He will give you to me.”

“My uncle is no fool,” she replied.

“True. But he has no conscience.”

* * * *

A rider came into view up ahead on the road. Taran glimpsed the dress-clad legs dangling from the right side of the man’s horse and recognized the blue velvet of Caroline’s gown. The man was holding her in his arms. Rage shot through Taran and he yanked the pistol from his belt as he kicked the horse’s ribs with vicious force. The beast gave a piercing whinny and lunged forward. William and Huntly charged at full speed alongside him.

The man twisted and looked in their direction, then faced forward. His horse lurched into a gallop and Caroline cried out. Taran’s heart pounded. By God, when he caught the man he would shoot his fingers off one by one for touching what didn’t belong to him.

Caroline was wrong to have lied to him, but come what may, she was his. His to torture, tease, make love to…protect. If the man had already raped her—Taran hunkered down close to the horse’s neck and willed the animal to go faster. Stride by mighty stride, the beast began to outrun his companions’ mounts.

Taran’s heart hammered at the enormity of his mistake. He should have told Caroline that he knew she was his Aphrodite. Had he not received some perverse pleasure out of making her pay for that bit of deceit she would be safe at home, in his bed. But, by God, he would get her back.

And when he again had her in his bed…

* * * *

The horse jolted forward. Caroline cried out and threw her arms around her attacker’s neck to keep from falling. He leaned forward, pinning her ribs painfully against the pommel. She shoved at him, but he was a leaden weight. She wheezed in a breath. Tears stung the corners of her eyes, pain and fear, forcing the release, yet rage brought on a renewed sense of strength.

Caroline rammed her knee into the man’s ribs, as hard as she could. He stiffened, and she kneed him again. His hold slackened and she raked nails across his cheek. He straightened and, even in the dim light, she discerned the furious glitter of the blue eyes illuminated by a burst of moonlight.

She sucked in a breath. The moon disappeared again behind clouds, but there was no mistaking those deep blue eyes. They belonged to the man who had been reading the newspaper in the corner chair when she and Taran had breakfasted at the Cross Keys Inn. He had followed her from inn? Why?

Her mind raced. What had the stable master at Cross Keys Inn said? “…He did not simply die.” The girth hadn’t broken, but had been cut. This man, her captor, had seen her with Liam, had deduced what they’d spoken of. Another fear slammed against her. Had this man harmed Liam? Her mind muddled. This was too much. There were too many questions—the man twisted to look behind him and she caught sight of three riders hard on their heels.

Her heart beat harder. She hadn’t heard the other horses over the sound of her attacker’s horse’s hooves and the roar of blood rushing through her ears. She gulped in air when the animal’s movement jolted her lower spine against the pommel. If the man threw her from the horse, she would face three instead of one. But none of those three were her uncle—she choked back a sob—the man who had killed her father.

The pursuing horses’ hooves grew louder. Caroline held herself rigid. Tears streamed down her cheeks. If she didn’t escape, Taran would never know the truth. Not about her father, her uncle…or the love of his wife. His Aphrodite.

The horse’s breathing grew labored. The pursuers continued to gain ground.

“Release me and save yourself,” she said.

“Have you heard nothing I’ve said?”

The man’s head dipped. Caroline tensed, then realized he was looking at her. Shadow hid his expression. Yet, he was hesitating. This was her chance.

“Touch me, even at my uncle’s command, and my husband will kill you.” His hold tightened.