Page 32 of The Laird who Craved her

"Aye, he is watching," Violet observed with a sharp smile. "He has looked over his shoulder at ye no less than four times since we cleared the gates. He is highly observant when it comes to ye, Claire."

"He is observant of everything, Vi. It is his duty to keep us alive."

"Duty," Violet scoffed lightly, adjusting her leather reins. "If that man looks at ye out of mere duty, then I am the Queen of England. I saw the way he looked at ye in the courtyard yesterday. A man doesnae look at a political arrangement as though he wants to devour her whole."

Claire opened her mouth to argue, to insist that Violet was imagining things, but the words died in her throat as the terrain suddenly shifted.

The grassy path narrowed as they neared a steep ridge over a rushing, rain-swollen river. The ground was treacherous, with slick mud and loose shale from storms. The river below roared loudly, white water crashing against jagged black rocks.

"Keep the horses in the center of the track," Finn called back over his shoulder, his voice carrying clearly over the sound of the rushing water. He guided his black warhorse carefully, his eyes scanning the unstable earth.. "The edge is soft."

Douglas guided Violet’s horse carefully along the inner wall of the ridge, keeping himself between her and the drop.

Claire followed, her hands steady on the leather reins. Her gray mare was usually incredibly sure-footed, stepping carefully over the loose stones. But as they rounded a particularly narrow bend, the earth beneath the mare’s hind hooves suddenly gave way.

The mud slid downward with a sickening, wet sound.

The mare let out a sharp, panicked whinny, her hind legs dropping as the edge of the ridge crumbled into the river below.

Claire gasped, her heart leaping into her throat. She gripped the reins tightly, her boots sliding in the stirrups as the saddle tilted at a terrifying angle. Panic, cold and absolute, flooded her veins.

"Steady!" Claire cried out, trying to pull the horse's head up, but her own sudden panic only fueled the animal's terror. The mare scrambled wildly, her iron-shod hooves striking sparks against the remaining rock, but she was losing her footing. The ground was tearing away.

"Claire!" Violet screamed from ahead.

Before Claire could process the deadly fall awaiting her, Finn surged forward.

His massive black horse closed the distance in two thunderous strides. Finn leaned out of his saddle. His large, heavily scarred arm wrapped around Claire’s waist like a band of pure iron.

With a guttural grunt of sheer, terrifying strength, Finn hauled her directly upward.

Claire was ripped from her slipping saddle and flew through the air before crashing against Finn’s chest. He pulled her against him, settling her sideways on his saddle as her mare scrambled forward, finding solid ground and rushing toward Douglas.

Claire could not breathe.

Her hands were tangled in the heavy wool of Finn’s plaid, her fingers gripping his leather doublet as if it were the only anchor left in the world. Her heart was hammering so frantically it felt as though it might shatter her ribs.

She looked up, her gaze locking onto his, and found his green eyes wild with a raw intensity that made her entire body thrum. He wasn't just holding her; he was consuming the space between them.

She felt the unyielding heat radiating from his skin through the leather of his doublet. Her hip was pressed firmly against thesolid weight of his thigh, a searing reminder of their precarious closeness.

It was a chaotic, intimate tangle of limbs and racing pulses, and for that suspended second, the world beyond the rhythm of his hammering heart didn't exist.

"I have ye," Finn murmured, his chest heaving violently against hers. His rough voice was low and soothing. "Ye are safe, lass. I have ye." His hand remained splayed across her waist, his thumb tracing a slow, agonizingly deliberate circle against her side as if he couldn't quite bring himself to break the contact.

"Are ye alright?" Violet demanded, having forced Douglas to turn their horses around. Violet’s face was deathly pale, her blue eyes wide with genuine fright. .

Claire swallowed hard, forcing air back into her tight lungs. "Aye. Aye, I am well. Only shaken."

"The gray mare is safe, me Laird," Douglas reported, pointing up the trail where the riderless horse had stopped to graze nervously on a patch of heather.. "But the ridge is too unstable to risk putting the lady back on her. The ground is falling away."

"She rides with me," Finn commanded, his tone leaving no room for debate.

He adjusted his grip, his powerful arm locking tightly around Claire’s waist to secure her against him while his other hand took up the thick leather reins.

"Douglas, lead the way back to the castle," Finn ordered, his green eyes dark and unreadable. "The ride is over."

The journey back became unbearable torture.