yet. My brother will shortly arrive from America. As Laird Douglas."
"As Laird Douglas. Aye! You are so quick to cast blame upon me and mine."
"Where else would I cast blame?"
"Perhaps it was your heathen brother who wanted you dead!"
She spoke the words, then fought hard not to allow herself to cringe into the bedding, for she regretted them the moment they were out of her mouth, and with good cause. His hand was raised, as if he would strike, and strike a stunning blow. But he gained control, and his knuckles fell tauntingly upon her cheek.
"So now you would blame my brother?"
"Who gained here by your death?"
"Milady, you are sleeping in my bed."
"I am a caretaker for the surviving Douglas—"
"You—and your kin—hold the power here in my brother's absence. Any man—or woman—who was patient, and well aware that my father's and brother's hearts lay in America, would benefit well from my demise. My father's death was naturally coming soon enough; age would see to that. Here you are, living with your kin within the castle. I imagine that more and more Douglas cattle find their way into MacGinnis hands. Then there is the matter of the disputed land, which I daresay might be at the very heart of the matter, for unless I miss my guess, there are even more tremendous coal deposits on that property than any of us had imagined, and in our nineteenth century industrialized world, coal is worth a king's ransom and certainly a lesser man's death. Then, I imagine, the laird's share of tenant produce here most probably finds its way into MacGinnis coffers. But then, what argument do I need to bring up with you? You wished to see me the night of my 'death.' Alone. My assignation that evening was with you, was it not?"
Aye, God yes, it had been. Yet he was here now, quite menacingly so. Aye, she had lured him on Gawain's urging, only because she had been desperate to help Alistair.
She'd not known what would happen next. Truly, she had not.
Words suddenly sprang desperately and unbidden to her lips. "Sweet Jesu, David. It was long ago. You must realize, I don't know what happened. There was the fire. There is so much I don't remember—"
"Ah, lass, but I have remembered, and I have remembered you! Through what agonies you cannot begin to imagine!"
She remained still, biting into her lower lip to maintain what dignity she could. Through what agonies... where had he been? What had happened to him in all that time she had thought him dead? Why hadn't he come back before? Why hadn't he let her know that he was alive?
"David, truly, I meant you no ill-—"
"Ah, but you are a sorry liar, milady!"
"I tell you—"
"Nay, lady, I tell you!" He leaned close, his green eyes glittering in the moonlight. "I am alive—demon, man, or beast—and I will discover exactly what happened that night, how I came to be buried while suffering all the tortures of hell at one time."
Shawna swallowed hard, willing herself not to tremble. She was afraid; she was fascinated. She couldn't forget the feel of him when he had touched her with passion, searing into her with fierce fire and raw determination.
And desire.
She had to speak, had to escape his touch. The memories.
She moistened her lips. She had to make him move away.
"I meant you no harm."
"Ah, but you did!" No good. Now the soft stroke of his fingers smoothed back a lock of her hair. His voice remained husky and soft, causing the burning within her to heighten. "You lured me to the stables."
"I've admitted as much. I needed to talk to you."
"We didn't do much talking. You lured me to seduce me. To my death."
"I never intended to seduce you—■"
"Umm, perhaps not as far as you did. You intended that I drop from the drug in the wine before matters could go quite so far as they did."
"The wine-—"
"Was very definitely drugged. Are you denying that?"
Her lashes fell. She had difficulty breathing.
"Shawna?"
His whisper touched her face. The feel of his thighs around her hips
"As Laird Douglas. Aye! You are so quick to cast blame upon me and mine."
"Where else would I cast blame?"
"Perhaps it was your heathen brother who wanted you dead!"
She spoke the words, then fought hard not to allow herself to cringe into the bedding, for she regretted them the moment they were out of her mouth, and with good cause. His hand was raised, as if he would strike, and strike a stunning blow. But he gained control, and his knuckles fell tauntingly upon her cheek.
"So now you would blame my brother?"
"Who gained here by your death?"
"Milady, you are sleeping in my bed."
"I am a caretaker for the surviving Douglas—"
"You—and your kin—hold the power here in my brother's absence. Any man—or woman—who was patient, and well aware that my father's and brother's hearts lay in America, would benefit well from my demise. My father's death was naturally coming soon enough; age would see to that. Here you are, living with your kin within the castle. I imagine that more and more Douglas cattle find their way into MacGinnis hands. Then there is the matter of the disputed land, which I daresay might be at the very heart of the matter, for unless I miss my guess, there are even more tremendous coal deposits on that property than any of us had imagined, and in our nineteenth century industrialized world, coal is worth a king's ransom and certainly a lesser man's death. Then, I imagine, the laird's share of tenant produce here most probably finds its way into MacGinnis coffers. But then, what argument do I need to bring up with you? You wished to see me the night of my 'death.' Alone. My assignation that evening was with you, was it not?"
Aye, God yes, it had been. Yet he was here now, quite menacingly so. Aye, she had lured him on Gawain's urging, only because she had been desperate to help Alistair.
She'd not known what would happen next. Truly, she had not.
Words suddenly sprang desperately and unbidden to her lips. "Sweet Jesu, David. It was long ago. You must realize, I don't know what happened. There was the fire. There is so much I don't remember—"
"Ah, lass, but I have remembered, and I have remembered you! Through what agonies you cannot begin to imagine!"
She remained still, biting into her lower lip to maintain what dignity she could. Through what agonies... where had he been? What had happened to him in all that time she had thought him dead? Why hadn't he come back before? Why hadn't he let her know that he was alive?
"David, truly, I meant you no ill-—"
"Ah, but you are a sorry liar, milady!"
"I tell you—"
"Nay, lady, I tell you!" He leaned close, his green eyes glittering in the moonlight. "I am alive—demon, man, or beast—and I will discover exactly what happened that night, how I came to be buried while suffering all the tortures of hell at one time."
Shawna swallowed hard, willing herself not to tremble. She was afraid; she was fascinated. She couldn't forget the feel of him when he had touched her with passion, searing into her with fierce fire and raw determination.
And desire.
She had to speak, had to escape his touch. The memories.
She moistened her lips. She had to make him move away.
"I meant you no harm."
"Ah, but you did!" No good. Now the soft stroke of his fingers smoothed back a lock of her hair. His voice remained husky and soft, causing the burning within her to heighten. "You lured me to the stables."
"I've admitted as much. I needed to talk to you."
"We didn't do much talking. You lured me to seduce me. To my death."
"I never intended to seduce you—■"
"Umm, perhaps not as far as you did. You intended that I drop from the drug in the wine before matters could go quite so far as they did."
"The wine-—"
"Was very definitely drugged. Are you denying that?"
Her lashes fell. She had difficulty breathing.
"Shawna?"
His whisper touched her face. The feel of his thighs around her hips
Similar Books
![Hillerman, Tony - [Leaphorn & Chee 05]](https://fs.collectorofbookboyfriends.com/460177/thumbs/152x264/hillerman-tony-leaphorn-chee-05.jpg)
