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“I don’t want tae know anythin’ about ye,” Greta said scathingly. In truth, she could not bear to look at the way he was enjoying every bite of the meat and bread, making appreciative noises and licking his lips.
However, she found herself staring at those lips, and again the strange sweet pulse began to beat between her legs. What a pity he was a bandit! She had always read about tales of wicked adventurers who carried ladies off with them, but though the stories were romantic, the reality was quite different. She was stranded in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of outlaws, and despite the fact that one of them was extremely good-looking, they were, after all, simply criminals.
“Will ye nae even tell me yer name?” he asked, still chewing. “Surely that will no’ do any harm? I cannae keep callin’ ye ‘lassie’ forever, surely?”
“I don’t care what ye call me,” she replied sullenly.
“My full name is Finn Colm Crawford,” he told her. “If I ask ye nicely, will ye tell me yers? Please?”
In the poor light, she could not see his face properly, but his voice was gentle and wheedling, and she could almost hear the smile on his face. He was not quite begging, but she could tell that it was important to him, which made her feel a little smug.
Greta thought for a moment. What was the point in hiding her name from him? It was not exactly a secret. “My name is Greta,” she answered.
“And yer surname?” His voice was curious.
“Why d’ye need tae know?” she asked, frowning suspiciously. “Are ye holdin’ me hostage? Because I am tellin’ ye now, if that is what ye had in mind, ye might as well forget it. I have no family an’ only a wee bit of land an’ a few sheep tae call my own.”
“No, I had nothin’ like that in mind,” he answered.
“Then what did ye have in mind?” Her voice was angry, yet inside she was terrified. “Are ye goin’ tae use me for yer pleasure?”
“No!” he answered furiously. “I never hurt women or children. I try to make sure the rest of the lads don’t do that either.” Then he sat down beside her, his back against the tree, and put his arm around her shoulders.
Greta stiffened and tried to draw away, but he tightened his grip on her. She was furious, but he was far stronger than she was, so she attempted to relax and listen to him speaking.
“Do ye know,” Finn answered, “I have asked myself why I took ye, an’ the lads have asked me too, but I still have absolutely no idea.” He shook his head. “I told the lads that I thought ye might be good for the gang because women can go where men cannae go. Ye can use yer charm, an’ ye can soften men up an’ help us get intae places we couldnae otherwise, but I made that up when they asked me an’ I had to think of somethin’ quick.
“I admired the way ye looked after the bairns, without any thought for yer own safety. I like that ye are brave, an’ ye stood up tae a big man on a horse wi’ only a pitchfork. I have never seen any woman doin’ the likes of that before.” He sighed in frustration. “Greta, I have no idea why I brought ye, but I am glad ye are here.”
At that moment, the light from the lamp shifted, and she saw the expression on his face as he looked at her. It was regretful and sad; suddenly, he looked vulnerable, and she knew that she, Greta, had made him feel this way. She also knew that if she reached out for him right at that moment, he would pull her into his arms and kiss her thoroughly, and she would not resist.
Moreover, she was not afraid because underneath his fearful exterior, there was something gentle and honorable about Finn, and she knew that she would be safe with him. A surge of hot desire shot through her and settled in a pool at her core as she felt the muscular body of the man sitting next to her. She wondered what having him as her first lover would feel like? Was he the gentle man sitting beside her or the savage she had seen in the village? Perhaps he was both.
Finn saw that her gaze had moved away from him and that she was in a daydream of her own. He smiled and passed a hand in front of her to awaken her, but she continued to stare into space. He thought for a moment, then, because he simply could not help himself, he bent to place his lips onto hers in a gentle kiss.
Greta had been imagining Finn doing just that, but the reality terrified her as she realized just how vulnerable she was. As soon as she felt the touch of his mouth on hers, she squealed with fear and pushed him away. Then she pushed his arm off her shoulders with a strength she did not know she possessed. She slid away from him, scrambling backward on her behind as fast as she could before raising herself to her feet and looking around wildly for a means of escape.
“Greta, I am so sorry.” He was furious with himself. Just as he had thought she was softening toward him, he had undone everything. He was a fool, an absolute bloody idiot. He stood up and took a step toward her, but she raised her hands to ward him off.
“Stay away fae me!” she warned. “So ye did no’ harm women, eh?” She gave a scornful laugh as she picked up a branch that had fallen from the tree. “I might nae be strong enough tae fight ye off, but it will nae stop me from tryin’. I would rather tear my own eyes out than lie wi’ ye!”
Attracted by the noise, the other bandits were looking around to see what the fuss was about. The firelight gave them only a dim view, but they saw the small, fair-haired woman grasping a stout tree branch advancing toward Finn, jabbing it toward his face and making him take backward steps to escape from her fury. However, the tree branch was not as fearsome as the pitchfork had been, and Finn, having sized up the situation, suddenly wrenched it out of her hands and snapped it over his knee.
“I am sorry,” he said roughly. “That was no’ meant tae happen.”
Greta could not bear to look at him. “I am a helpless woman.” She shrugged, and her voice was dull and defeated. “Do what ye like, just don’t hurt me.”
She lay on the ground and closed her eyes, and this time she felt the stab of every sharp piece of rock and pine cone acutely, her discomfort made even worse by the stinging pain in her thigh. She kept her eyes closed as she sensed movement near her, then felt a heavy hand landing on her shoulder again.
Greta sat up, sighing, and looked up into Finn’s eyes. She was too tired to be scared or angry. Let him do what he wanted to do with her; she was resigned to her fate now.
“I have made ye a bed,” he said softly. “Come an’ see.” He reached down to take her hand, but she batted it away.
Finn sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. He was beginning to feel distinctly irritated. He had to keep reminding himself that if he had been kidnapped and found himself in a gang of bandits, he would likely react much the same as Greta was doing, only worse.
He led her to a patch of ground under a huge spruce tree which he had padded with fir leaves, over which he had spread two blankets.
“Lie down,” he ordered, but his voice was soft. She obeyed, having no other choice, and he spread another blanket over her.
