He moved in a blur, sword arcing above him and then hissing downward to stab into the bull’s side. The beast let out a horrible sound, and as Lachlan retreated, the animal charged again. Bridgette screamed a warning, but Lachlan’s sword was at the ready. Right as the bull was upon him, Lachlan dropped to his back and a cry of terror ripped from Bridgette’s lips. The bull was atop him, and then it suddenly stopped its forward motion and fell upon him.
She scrambled to her feet, swaying with her fear. In the distance, she saw Neil staggering toward them, clutching his side. The bull fell sideways then, Lachlan’s sword lodged in its chest, and after a long fearful moment, Lachlan staggered to his feet covered in blood. She stared in horror as he gave her a furious look and then ran to help Neil. Tears burned her eyes, and her hands shook violently as she went to her bow and collected it.
As she stood, she heard a terrible noise behind her, and her blood became ice in her veins. She whirled around to find the second bull charging her. Behind her, Lachlan screamed for her to move, but she’d not allow him to risk his life to save hers again. She drew her bow up swiftly, nocked an arrow, and released it into the bull’s eye. The beast swung its head wildly, white foam spraying from its mouth. It slowed its pace but did not stop. Her heart thudded hard, and she was unsure that’s what she was hearing or if it was the distinct thump of running footsteps. She nocked another arrow, raised it, and released it into the bull’s other eye, but he was upon her before she could draw her next breath.
His big, hairy body collided with hers and sent her flying backward onto the ground on her back. White spots flashed in her eyes as her breath left her lungs in a hard whoosh, and then the dark hair of the bull’s coat swam before her vision as it landed beside her with a thud. A scream tore from her throat, even as she realized the bull was dead.
Dead?! She’d killed the bull and saved herself and Lachlan?
She took a deep, painful, shuddering breath and released it with a shaky grin.
Suddenly, Lachlan fell to his knees beside her and gathered her into his arms. “Are ye hurt?” he demanded, his voice thick with emotion that sent a deep awareness of him from her ears to very low in her belly. Heat pooled there, and her insides clenched.
“Nay,” she responded, aware her voice was husky. “I killed the bull! Did ye see? Did ye see me?”
He set her away, his expression changing from one of concern to such fury that chills raced across her skin.
“Did I see ye?” he hissed, bringing his face close to hers as he clutched her arms and brought them both to their feet without so much as a grunt.“Did I see ye?”he repeated, his voice slashing through the silence. She’d never seen the man so angry in all her days of knowing him. “Ye defied me!” he growled, his tone low and throbbing with rage. “I told ye nae to move, and ye defied me!”
Shame and outrage collided, mingled, and burst within her chest. She yanked out of his grip, plunked her hands on her hips, tilted her chin up defiantly, and spat, “I am nae yers to order about, Lachlan MacLeod! I’m nae joined in pledges of a future with ye as Helena is, nor am I the servant wench ye betray Helena with, so ye may shove yer orders up yer arse!”
His eyes blazed emerald as his broad-carved face twisted into rage. She gasped in sudden fear and moved to scramble away from him when he yanked her to him, his fingers curling like a vise around her arms.
Lachlan’s anger thumped in his ears with every beat of his heart and stripped him of reason and control. He had to make her understand she couldn’t risk her life in such a way again. “Yer disobedience almost got ye killed,” he growled. “Ye kinnae be so careless with yer life! If ye had been killed—” Pain lanced through him at the thought and closed his throat to further speech.
God help him. As he stared into her wide, fearful eyes, he twitched with a sudden realization: what he felt for Bridgette was far more than mere desire. It was something deeper, truer, something he’d mistakenly thought he would never experience as a warrior. Bridgette MacLean had managed to invade his heart, and he was uncertain if he had the strength to banish her any longer.
Stark silence surrounded him and Bridgette. Lachlan was aware that Rory Mac had walked up, and he and Neil gaped at him now, as well they should. Lachlan was also too aware of Bridgette’s soft skin, the rise and fall of her chest with each breath, and her mouth, which was parted in shock—or perhaps awareness—at his words. Her gaze met his and locked, green ice to fire. He needed to release her, but he found himself curling his fingers tighter around her arms. He’d unleashed a restraint within him for the moment, and the need to touch her, to reassure himself that she was still here and living, drove him forward blindly.
“A horn to yer gut could have been yer death,” he said hoarsely. She tensed underneath his grasp and her lips thinned. Her continued show of defiance was more than he could withstand. “Tell me ye ken me.” The words sounded raw. “Tell me!”
Her body eased at once and understanding dawned in her eyes, and he felt certain then that she could see inside his mind. “I ken ye,” she whispered.
A firm hand came to his shoulder. “Release her, Lachlan,” Rory Mac said in a strong, clear voice.
God’s truth, it was as if he was suddenly looking at himself from a distance and saw what Rory Mac and Neil must have been seeing. What must they have thought of him? With a ragged inhalation, Lachlan released Bridgette at once. He was stripped of all defenses. She’d laid him bare without ever lifting a finger. He’d lost all control. Disgust washed over him and left him drowning.
He motioned to the horses in the distance. “Let us away to Dunvegan.” He left them standing there without a glance back. He mounted his horse and stared straight ahead as Rory Mac, Neil, and Bridgette finally came to their own horses and mounted them. Only Neil’s grunt broke the silence.
After they were seated, Lachlan took off setting them to a relentless pace. The need to reach Dunvegan and get distance from Bridgette gnawed at him. He was afraid if he even glanced her way and caught her eyes, he would blurt everything he felt. Vulnerability was new to him, and he didn’t care for it in the least.
