Page 309 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“Come, love,” he said, his voice low and gentle.

“You will feel better after you dress.”

The tenderness in his voice sparked something undefinable and the dam broke, bringing with it trembling, followed by quiet weeping. Clutching his shirt, Victoria leaned into him. She shook her head over and over. Iain hugged her close, making soft, indistinguishable noises until she shifted to peer through her tears at the body of her attacker. Iain’s fingers caressed her cheek as he forced her face back to his chest. She convulsed and again sobbed against him. The cleansing tears finally slowed and shock gave way to anger.

“This is your fault,” she railed between hoarse hiccups.

“Aye,” he agreed all too quickly.

Victoria looked up at him. Fear shown on his face.

She pounded a fist against his chest.

“You think your penitence absolves you?” Her voice rose and cracked. She leaned away from him and pounded him harder. “Damn you, you bastard! Let—me—go.” She repeated the words over and over, until at last they drifted into nothing more than a whisper. Her knees gave way and Iain caught her to himself.

Strength surged through her and she pushed at him. “I would rather you left me than touch me.” But he held her close until her tears again subsided, though her whispered pleas to return home did not.

When she finally quieted, he placed shaking fingers beneath her chin and tilted her face upward. As though searching for some answer, he held her there for what seemed an eternity before lifting her into his arms and carrying her back to where her dress lay. He set her feet on the ground, his arm around her, and again lifted her tear-stained face up to his.

“Did they hurt you?”

She bowed her head. Iain hesitated as if he might press her, then picked up her dress. He loosened the tartan from her fingers. His jaw clenched and he reached in the direction of her bodice. Victoria flinched.

Iain halted. “What is this?”

Victoria looked down at a dark red mark that marred the swell of her breast. She yanked the dress from his grasp and held it to her. “You need ask?”

His gaze dropped to where the garment now covered the bruise, then returned to the unsteady lift of her chin. His eyes hardened, but he turned away, allowing her to dress.

Iain escorted her back to the camp and left her with two of his men, then disappeared into the forest again. When he returned, she was sitting on a pallet.

“You are sure he is dead?” Victoria cursed the tremble in her voice.

“Aye,” Iain answered.

“What of the other one?”

“I tied him to a tree.”

“What if I steal away and kill him?”

Iain shrugged. “It would be no more than he deserves.”

“I have the right. Men do not understand that women also need justice.”

All amusement died from his face. “I do know, lass, and you shall have it.”