Warrior of the Isles by Debbie Mazzuca

on his arse. “Bloody hell, what was that for?”
    â€œYou forgot my deer. I’m not leaving without her.” She rolled onto her belly in an attempt to slide off Fin.
    â€œStay put.” His hand grazed her rounded behind as he grasped her narrow waist and placed her firmly upright. He didn’t miss her startled gasp, and if she happened to look down, he doubted she’d miss what that innocent touch had done to him.
    Leaves scattered beneath his angry strides. Fool , that’s what he was for catering to her daft notions. He bent down and lifted the struggling animal into his arms, turning in time to see his men, Donald and Gavin, come crashing through the underbrush on horseback. Aidan scowled at their amused expressions, about to tell them what they could do with the comments they were bound to make. But they were too busy ogling the lass sitting astride Fin to bother with him.
    He fought back a wave of possessiveness, the urge to plant his fist in their ugly mugs. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a fine pair of antlers sticking out from behind Gavin and winced.
    â€œDonald.” He tried to gain the other man’s attention, intent on sending them on their way before the lass spotted the big buck strapped across the horse’s back. Never comfortable dealing with emotional women, he had every intention of avoiding a scene. With her head bowed, her fingers twisting in Fin’s mane, she’d yet to notice.
    â€œAre ye no’ goin’ to introduce us to yer bonny wee friend?” Donald’s green eyes glinted with mischief.
    â€œLater. Here, take her.” He placed the deer in front of Donald.
    â€œHave ye lost yer mind? In case ye havena noticed, Aidan, she’s still alive, and,” he cried out, “kickin’.”
    At a feminine cry, Aidan turned in time to see the lass scramble off Fin.
    â€œI will not have her ride with those . . . those murderers.” Her furious gaze locked on the buck, she limped to his side.
    He sighed and placed his hands firmly upon her shoulders. “No harm will come to yer pet. Ye have my word on it.”
    He thought a man could be burned from the fiery glint in the topaz eyes she raised to his. “But they . . . he . . .”
    â€œProvided food for our clan, somethin’ ye denied me the satisfaction of doin’.” He brought his face within inches of hers. “Somethin’ ye’d best no’ be remindin’ me of if ye ken what’s good fer ye.”
    â€œYe canna be serious, Aidan? I thought ye merely wished us to kill the beastie when we were out of the lass’s sight,” Donald protested as he struggled to keep the deer on his lap.
    The lass let out an ear-piercing screech and lunged at Donald. Aidan grabbed her. With an arm around her waist, he anchored her to his chest.
    â€œLet me go you . . . you, big ogre.” She stomped on his foot then yelped.
    â€œFiery wee thing, isna she?” Gavin observed.
    â€œAye,” Aidan muttered, waving them off. “Head fer home. I’ll be there shortly. Enough,” he growled in the delicate shell of her ear as she struggled to get away from him, the movement of her behind against his groin nearly more than he could bear.
    Gavin caught his eye, his smirk letting Aidan know he saw he struggled with more than the lass. “Mayhap I should take her, and ye the buck. She doesna’ appear to like ye verra much.” He chuckled at the dark look Aidan shot him. “We’re leavin’, but doona take long or we’ll come back fer ye.”
    Aidan swung her under his arm and stomped to his horse. “Mind where ye’re hittin’.” He grunted when her wee fists pounding on his thighs came too close for comfort.
    None-too-gently, he set her on top of Fin. As he attempted to mount, the lass swung her foot, hitting the stallion instead of her intended target—him. Fin reared with an angry whinny,