Highland Warrior by Heather McCollum (the rosie project TXT) 📗

sweat and ale and held her up against his frame, her face over his meaty shoulder.

“Halt your squirming, lass,” he said, tightening his hold around her until she could hardly breathe in. His strength overpowered any strategy or expertise she might have honed. His lips came to her ear as he whispered, “Just let him up your skirts, and ye will suffer less.”

Like hell! Kicking against the man’s firm hold, her mind raced over the weapons at hand. There were rocks about, but they were as useless to her as her sword lying with them below in the grass.

She threw her hand up, scratching the side of his face.

“Ye bitch,” he yelled, throwing her arm away.

One of her brooches ripped off her shoulder, falling below. My brooch. With her still-free hand, she yanked the remaining silver circle off her other shoulder, the long spike sticking out.

“Let go!” she yelled as she slammed the pin against the guard’s head. The sharp steel spike pierced his skin easily, cutting through flesh into his skull.

He screamed, releasing her as he dropped to his knees, the brooch stuck into the soft skin of his temple. Grabbing his head, he fell forward, but Kára didn’t wait to see if he moved as she spun toward Henry.

The murderer of her husband stared at his two fallen men. Kára stood rigid, her hand and nails out before her. Her muscles felt weak after her struggles against the two hulking men. Without the brooches holding her straps together, her wool gown fell, revealing her trussed form, her stays making her heaving bosom rise over the edge of her smock.

Henry’s gaze focused on them, and he feasted on her as if she were naked. Kára leaped out of the woolen folds tangled around her feet. Go for his eyes, she thought, readying her fingers. The wind cut right through the thin fabric, but the chill she felt in her bones came from the promise of lustful violence in Henry’s eyes.

“Leave here, or you will die, too,” she said, letting all her hatred seethe in her tone.

“Ye have brought doom to your people, Kára, for killing my men,” Henry said, taking one step closer. “My father will retaliate against your whole family unless ye come with me to confess and take your punishment. I think we will start by having ye walk naked into the bailey like a common, stripped prisoner.”

He took another step toward her. If she could make it around the chapel, perhaps Joshua would see her. She moved to the side as he stalked forward, several gravestones between them. “They attacked me,” she said. “And they were warned, like I am warning you. Stay away from me.”

For every step back she took, he took a step forward, like a cat cornering a mouse. Could she outrun him? Jump the stonewall in her smock before he could catch her? Damn. If there was no wall, she might be able to run down into the village. The closeness of it had given her a false sense that she was safe here.

The wind blew, molding the white linen against her bare legs. Henry shook his head. “But ye see, I cannot stay away from ye, especially when ye look so damn tempting, lass. It really is your own fault, whatever happens. If ye had stayed with me when I took ye first, I would be tired of ye by now. I may even have let your child live.” He shrugged. “If ye had asked me nicely. But ye are all frowns and gnashing of teeth,” he said, curling his fingers up like he had claws in an imitation of her ready stance. Another few steps and she could slide along the side of the chapel.

Joshua. Joshua, be outside. See me. Her pleading turned into a type of prayer. Her body trembled with waiting energy, but would it be enough to hold Henry Stuart off without a weapon? Even her other brooch was lost in the grass far from her.

“Ask you nicely?” She let him see the hate and ridicule in her gaze. “You had just murdered my husband, the father of my child, for no other reason except that he demanded you leave us alone.” Another step back. She was around the side facing the village but didn’t dare take her gaze off Henry. He moved quickly over to stand between two gravestones. He had a straight line to her, the stone wall at his back. Maybe if she could keep him talking, Joshua would spot them. “Geir did not threaten you. He tried to protect me when you decided that I was something you wanted. You deserve only contempt and—”

Henry rushed her, covering the space before she could gasp. He threw his body forward in an all-out run and plowed into her, sending her careening back against the chapel. Her head snapped back, hitting the stone, making everything in her sight shake, and small sparks danced in her vision. Another rock stuck into her back as he shoved her against the chapel wall, one hand on her breast, the other one grabbing her hair in his fist. He used his pelvis to pin her lower half, his erection obvious as he ground it into her. His face came inches before her face. “I deserve ye, Kára. Ye are beneath me in society, and ye are going to be beneath me…” He shoved his cod against her brutally. “Aye, beneath me whenever I wish it, starting right now.”

“Get off me!” Pulling the last of the moisture in her mouth, she spit in his face.

Releasing her hair, he wiped it away, his pelvis still holding her with his weight against the chapel. His leer had changed into a face of fury, and his free hand landed on her throat, bruising it so that she could not draw breath. Twisting, she tried to kick out at him, but he was strong and heavy. With him blocking her air, she couldn’t even curse