DevilsHeart by Laura Glenn

didn’t—”
    “I have never laid a hand on a woman in anger.” His eyes
glowered with annoyance for a second before he relaxed into a soft, charming
smile as though she hadn’t just asked him if he was a murderer. “Are you
satisfied, lass?”
    Maybe she could ask him to help her after all. “I have a
favor to ask of you.”
    “Anything.”
    Heat emanated from him, seeping into her. Her skin flushed
as a deep ache spread between her thighs. She drew toward him but then stopped
when the barest slip of air still separated them.
    She shook her head. No she had to concentrate. “Will you
take me back to Graham land? I need to get home. My family will be worried
sick.”
    Rathe’s lips parted as his face fell. “You are a Graham? You
told me you were a Gunn.”
    “I am a Gunn. It’s just that something weird happened and I
ended up on Graham land where the mormaer found me.” The mormaer had her scared
half out of her mind someone would accuse her of witchcraft if they knew what
had really happened to her. Just how many details she should reveal to this
man? “The mormaer won’t take me back, but I need to find my way home now before
he marries me off and sends me away. I may never have this chance again.”
    The arrested expression on his face sent her heart into a
downward spiral of despair. He was going to deny her request. She dropped her
eyes to his chest, blinking back the tears filling her eyes.
    “Ah, lass. That is the one thing I cannot do. I cannot go
against my overlord.”
    Her spine stiffened. It didn’t matter. She would find her
own way home. “Then I will go myself.”
    His fingertips sank into her waist again and his arms
tightened, holding her captive. “I cannot allow that.”
    “Please, let me go.”
    “You would not survive the night, lass. If the cold did not
get you, then a wolf or a group of highwaymen would. I would be sending you to
your death were I to let you go.”
    One hot tear fell onto her cheek as her shoulders slumped in
defeat. Damn it, he was right. Even if she was familiar with the route and
could move fast, she might not avoid the notice of wild animals or highwaymen.
Besides, what would she do if she got back to the site of the cabin and the
pendant was gone? And even if she did find it, would it even work?
    “I have a knife,” she mumbled.
    He cupped her cheek with one of his massive hands. The
roughened pad of his thumb whisked away the tear that had fallen.
    She resisted the urge to sink into his touch. A reassuring
strength radiated from his eyes.
    Now what was she supposed to do? Play the dutiful medieval
maiden and marry this stranger David had picked out? Her stomach churned.
    “What if this husband doesn’t like me? What if I don’t like
him?”
    He chuckled. “You may come to like each other in time.”
    “What if he’s controlling or selfish? What if he’s cruel?”
    He smoothed his fingers back along her cheek and into her
hair. Her flesh tingled. “You are going to worry yourself sick, lass. There is
no need—”
    “What if he hits me? What if—”
    His hand curled around her neck and he squeezed it. “Then
you send word to me. You hear? I will not abide a woman being abused in such a
manner.”
    What? Didn’t all medieval men think women were the simple
property of their husbands to do with what they chose? “You would come for me?”
    His eyes brimmed with conflict. “I am a fool for saying so,
but I swear on my life I would come for you. You need only to say the word.”
    Her lips parted in bewilderment, her knees weakening. “But
you cannot help me get out of this marriage?”
    “Unless I can find a legitimate objection other than your
reluctance, I cannot question the mormaer. You saved his son, remember. He
would not marry you off to someone he knows will treat you poorly.”
    She bit her lower lip, her heart numbing in defeat.
    Rathe pressed his forehead to hers, sending a wave of warmth
through her limbs to her belly as though