Page 13 of Moon Awakening

She stared at him in horror. "You can't mean that. Please, you mustn't take her away."

He didn't bother to reply and she hadn't expected him to. After all, why should he care for her pleas? The man's mind was obviously made up to do this heinous deed.

Still, her mouth opened to argue further, but he squeezed her shoulders again, this time his thumbs brushing along her collarbone. She gasped, no words making it past her suddenly tied tongue. She couldn't think. Not with him touching her in that inappropriate manner. She wanted to tell him to stop, but something about him mesmerized her.

He had not hurt her.

It was a puzzle, but even more so was the question of why he stood staring down at her, saying nothing.

He was frowning, but he didn't look particularly angry.

Didn't the men in the Highlands ever smile? What a foolish thought. Was he waiting for her to agree to be his messenger? If so, he would be waiting a long time.

"You cannot mean to take Cait on an arduous journey on horseback. Surely you have noticed she is with child."

He said nothing, giving her a glare meant to intimidate and it worked.

He was the most daunting man she'd come across in her life. He was also the most appealing one. The blue paint on his face could not disguise the masculine beauty of his features. Hair like shining obsidian hung past his massive shoulders and even the intricate tattoo around his bicep added to his appeal. It looked like a blue armband and none of the other soldiers had one.

Not that she would have seen any such thing on the Sinclair warriors. They had the decency to cover their upper torsos with saffron shirts under their plaids. Not so with these barbarians. His chest and one shoulder were bare. She could see a purplish bruise forming where she'd bit him as well as a smear of blood.

She winced, pained that she'd done that to another person.

His face held an impassive stare, yet she felt as if he were reading her every thought. She did not know how she was going to stop him from taking her friend, but stop him she must.

She pulled a handkerchief from where she had it tucked in her kirtle and wiped gently at the blood on his chest, not completely aware of what she was doing because her mind was spinning so furiously. She had to protect Cait.

"The journey could hurt the babe," she pointed out.

"Balmorals do not hurt women. Drustan is keeping her, but she and the bairn will not be harmed."

Emily pressed the cloth over the small wound she had inflicted. "Would not taking the laird's wife give you more revenge?" she asked, a desperate plan forming in her mind.

The warrior's eyes narrowed. "He is not married."

"Well, that was true a few days ago, but it isn't anymore."

At her friend's quick intake of breath at her lie, Emily silenced her with a look.

"Where is this wife then?" asked the warrior, in spite of himself.

He did not know why he hesitated and was actually listening to the Englishwoman. She was lovely, but he had never been swayed by a beautiful woman before. Perhaps it was her courage, or the way she tended the wound she had inflicted. The contradictory behavior intrigued him.

As did she. Her obvious concern for Talorc's sister confused ton. He would have expected no less from another member of the Sinclair clan, but this woman was not a Sinclair. She was English. Unmistakably so from the way she was dressed and spoke their tongue with the accent of their southern foe.

English or not, he liked watching her. She tried so hard to hide her fear from him, but her trembling gave her away. Despite her nervousness, purple eyes shot fire at him and this amused him. She looked ready to go to battle. Against him.

And she was not even a femwolf.

Amazing.

Where had the Sinclairs found a jewel such as this?

"I am his wife."

The words hung in the air, slicing through his pleasure in her company. This jewel belonged to the Sinclair? He would not believe it.

He shook his head.