Page 8 of The Son of a Highland Witch
Her chin came up. Those wondrous eyes were stormy and dark, giving her the look of something elemental with her hair coming loose from her braid and wisping about her face.
“Can I trust ye to follow me back to the castle?”
She gasped and in reply clapped her heels to the mare’s sides, who would have bolted at such ill-treatment if he had not been ready for the display of temper. His hand shot out, and he took hold of the reins, drawing the horse around in a wide circle which left the girl’s mare dancing and his own mount snorting and sidestepping.
Suddenly this job of repaying the laird took on larger proportions.
The lass nearly fought him. He could see the war being waged within the short gasps, the way her hands clenched the reins. Because of his grip on her mount, they were in close proximity, enough so that he could take in the scent of her, all wildflowers and honey. He had only to reach across and gather her onto the front of his own saddle, whereby he might ride with her in his arms, holding her against him. It was a tempting thought—tootempting.
Her eyes widened as she perhaps realized just how vulnerable a position she was in. For a moment, their eyes met. Now it was he whose breathing was a touch unsteady. Almost desperately, he turned toward the maid, who wavered in the saddle of her own mount, looking for all the world as though she were about to faint.
“Trudy, is it?” he said, his voice coming out on a strangled note. He cleared his throat and tried again. “See that yer lady rides home before I bind her hand and foot and bring her back much as I had intended to bring back the stag ye will be dining on later.”
At the maid’s frantic nod, he released the reins of Erica’s horse. She quickly gathered herself, giving the horse a sharp kick to set it into motion. The horse, already on edge, skittered sideways before falling into a decent but jarring trot down the hillside. All the same, Erica rode the animal well and even managed to get her mount under reasonable control by the time they found the trail down to the road again.
Trudy’s horse plodded in the wake of the other, with her clinging almost frantically to the saddle, face pale and features drawn. Clearly, she was used to following her mistress without question.
This would need to change, one of many things that would need to change before they left on their journey.
Finn sighed. He had his work cut out for him. However, at least he’d accomplished one thing this afternoon. He might have broken the young woman’s fascination for him.
Now if he could only somehow do the same regarding his strange fascination for her. Whenever Finn looked into Miss Erica O’Donnell’s sweet face, it felt as if something was tightening inside him.
