Page 41 of Steel & Surrender

He gave her a look that told her he didn’t believe her. However, he didn’t break eye contact. “Ye certainly know how to humble a man, Brìghde Boyd.”

Her lips quirked. “Hopefully, Ian Maclean agrees with ye. I had another run-in with him a week ago and had to make sure he wouldn’t be spreading any more rumors about me.”

Greig’s expression darkened. “Rumors?”

Heat rose to her cheeks. She didn’t want to fill him in on the details. “Let’s just say, he decided to sully my reputation.”

He inclined his head, brow furrowing. “What did ye do to him?”

“Kneed him in the cods. Hard.”

Greig winced. “I hope ye had an audience.”

“I did … and I made sure they knew he’d been spreading lies.”

Greig nodded. “Ye did well.” His gaze narrowed then. “If he troubles ye again though … come to me.”

Brìghde stilled, surprised.

She was used to fighting her own battles. Her brother, bless him, did his best, and her father could no longer be her protector. She wasn’t used to anyone looking out for her.

And yet, Greig Maclean had just offered to.

It unbalanced her.

Suddenly, she became aware of just how closely they were sitting, of the fact that the man’s braies were down, and that if anyone came upon them right now, it would look as if they’d just interrupted a tumble.

The warmth in her cheeks increased, while heat coiled low in her belly.

It was the first time Greig had roused such a response in her.

Aye, she’d noticed before now that he was a virile, attractive man, but his personality had grated so badly that it had masked her growing attraction.

But she felt it now, and it flustered her.

“Thank ye,” she murmured, yanking her gaze away from his and pushing herself to her feet. “But hopefully, he’s learned his lesson.”

12: ON GUARD

GREIG REACHED ACROSS the table and helped himself to a thick slice of coarse oaten bread. “Yer trip to Dùn Ara was a success, then?”

To his left, his father nodded, dark eyes glinting. “I should never have doubted Bran.” His lips quirked. “He’s a good friend. He said that Callum MacDonald looked as if he’d just swallowed a bitter plum when he left.”

“The whoreson did his best to bribe him by any means possible though,” Davy added. “Luckily, Bran wasn’t interested.”

“What did he offer, then?” Greig asked, glancing his brother’s way. Davy’s sharp-featured face was tense. Hungry.

“Men, boats … weapons,” his brother replied. “He even tried to broker an alliance through marriage.”

Loch’s lips pursed. “MacDonald must be desperate indeed. His only daughter is barely fourteen, and he was keen to promise her to Mackinnon’s only son, Nat.”

Greig sighed, uneasiness shifting in his gut. He was relieved to hear that the MacDonald’s trip to Dùn Ara had yielded nothing. But at the same time, it seemed that their enemy was determined to find a way into Mull, a way to weaken the strength of the Macleans of Duart. And although he’d been thwarted this time, instinct told him that the man would try again.

His stomach tightened then, reminding him that such thoughts weren’t good for digestion.

Picking up his cup of wine, he took a sip. “This is good, Ma,” he said, glancing his mother’s way.

Mairi, who sat silently next to her husband, favored her firstborn with a tight smile and nodded.