Samantha James by His Wicked Ways

murderer. He did not kill your father or brothers, for he would never be so cruel!”
    His smile was wiped clean. “And I tell you he was, for I was there!” His gaze scraped over her like a sword of molten steel. “You speak of God’s forgiveness. But is not God a vengeful God? Aye, ’tis revenge I seek, revenge for the slaying of my family. I think I need not remind you that Scripture tells us, ‘An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth’!”
    Her reply was swift and vehement. “‘Judge not, that ye be not judged,’” she quoted in turn.
    He did not flinch in the slightest. “I am prepared to face whatever consequences come my way in the days to come. But your father is responsible for the deaths of my brothers and my father. And I promise you, ’tis a debt I will see repaid measure for measure.”
    Meredith shook her head. It was not defiance but genuine puzzlement that prompted her question. “How? You chose to let my father live…and I have no brothers!”
    He stepped near, so very near that her breasts brushed the folds of his plaid; so close she could see the dark steel that ringed his eyes.
    “True,” he said, his tone suddenly soft, “but now I have you.”

Four
    But now I have you .
    That dark-featured face shadowed with a day’s growth of beard…that ever-so-slow smile…that voice as soft as swan’s down—any one of them might have sent a shiver throughout the length of her.
    The three of them combined…it was enough to send a river of ice rushing through her veins.
    His claim was true. He had neither harmed nor abused her…
    But she had the awful feeling he was not yet through with her.
    Bravely she held her ground, boldly drawing herself up before him. Somehow she managed to keep her regard entangled with his.
    “I would ask you this. Did you see him?”
    “Did I see who?”
    “My father! You claim he was among your attackers, but I must know—did you see him? Face-to-face, I ask? For I swear to you, my kinsmen would not strike men down and leave them for dead. Never would my father sanction such butchery!”
    It seemed an eternity yawned before he finally spoke. When he did, his lips were ominously thin. “I did not see him face-to-face. But I know well the battle cry of the Munros and the colors of their plaid—and there was no mistaking the color of his hair.”
    “You will not even consider that you could be wrong? That there was treachery involved and someone sought to lay the blame on my father?”
    “I will not, for I know who is to blame!” Cameron’s lips barely moved. “And were I you, I would let this matter rest here and now.”
    Meredith’s nails dug into her palms. Suddenly everything inside her chest was boiling and determined to be free. “You think you have defeated me because I am a woman,” she cried, “because I am weaker and you are stronger. Were I a man,” she accused, “you’d not have dared to lay a hand upon me. You are a wretch,” she went on, for the spark had been kindled and would not be doused. “Aye, you are the slimiest vermin of the earth. I find your actions despicable, as you are despicable!”
    She stood with bare, dirty feet planted apart, the tilt of her chin undeniably defiant. Cameron was amazed—and angry beyond words. Despicable, she called him. How dare she pass judgment upon him, this—this pious little nun who was not a nun! And how dare she imply that he was wrong, that it was not her kinsmen who had killed his! What treachery there was belonged solely to her father!
    But he did not reveal the depths of his ire—he did not dare, for he knew he would regret it later, as would she for provoking it!
    He forced an even calm he was far from feeling. “Are you quite finished?”
    The seconds passed, one into another, while each tested the resolve found in the other’s eyes. Cameron was certain another outburst was imminent. Her lips parted, then compressed tightly. Fury flared in thosedark-lashed eyes. Yet in the end she