The Rogue: A Highland Guard Novella (The Highland Guard) Read online

  He could see it clearly now, but Izzie didn’t seem to believe anything he said. Worse, she didn’t seem all that interested. She was acting as if it were too late. As if she didn’t care how he felt. But that couldn’t possibly be true… could it? Nay. He wasn’t going to give up until he convinced her—even if he suspected that more than once in the next few days he was just going to want to lock her in the tower and ravish her senseless until she agreed.

  Thanks to her, he had a new nickname from Hawk—Brigand—and apparently it fit.

  The long ride with her bottom pressing against his cock—he wasn’t going to give her the chance to escape—certainly wasn’t helping his newly formed barbarian instincts any. He’d been pushed to the edge by both her indifference to his apologies and the constant friction of a very soft bottom. How the lass could rouse his temper and his cock to such extraordinary lengths at the same time, he didn’t know.

  It was a relief when they finally reached the ferry to make the short crossing to the castle. Once on the small island, she looked around, her eyes skimming with disbelief over the burned-out outbuildings and more than half slighted walls.

  She spun on him angrily. “This horrible pile of stones belongs to you?” She paused to add sarcastically. “Do you by chance have a castle that actually has a roof on it?”

  “It has a roof.” Although he wasn’t sure how effective it was. The English had done a pretty thorough job of razing everything made out of wood. The stone hadn’t fared much better. “I thought you would want to see the best. It will be my gift to you when you agree to marry me.”

  She gaped at him as if he were mad. “If this is your best castle, Randy”—he might have to kill Hawk the next time he saw him for calling him that in front of her—“then I wonder about your reputation as one of your uncle’s most important knights. I also wonder about those reputed charm skills if you think to lure me to marriage with the promise of this ruin.”

  “I didn’t say it was my best castle. I said it was the best—for you.”

  Now she didn’t just look outraged, she also looked offended. “So I am worthy of a burned-out, slighted ruin?”

  She was irritating him again. He had to clench his jaw to bite back the flare of temper. He was tempted to let her figure it out herself. “You are worthy of every great palace in the world. But I did not think it was fine towers, gold plate, velvet furnishings, and high ramparts that would please you. I love you, Izzie, and I thought this would show you how much.”

  When she wasn’t busy driving him crazy, she was a clever lass—her quick wit and intelligence were two of the reasons he loved her—it didn’t take her long to figure it out. If he hadn’t been watching her so closely, he wouldn’t have seen the quick intake of breath and the swell of emotion sweep over her features. “You want me to help you rebuild it?”

  The gesture had touched her. For a moment the look in her eyes even gave him hope. It was as if she were a child receiving a gift for the first time.

  “It will be yours. You can rebuild it how you want. If you wish me to help, I should love to, but the decisions will be yours.”

  She didn’t say anything right away. But after a minute, she composed herself and wrestled her emotions back under firm control. “I was wrong,” she said. “You deserve every bit of your reputation for charming women. But it isn’t going to work.” She lifted her chin, her eyes glinting with steel. “You will not bribe me into marriage.”

  That wasn’t what he was doing, damn it. He just wanted to do something that would be meaningful to show her how much she meant to him. He took a threatening step toward her, the tension between them wound so tight he could practically feel it pulsing. Or maybe that was another part of him, damn it. “Perhaps I could think of another way. I did promise your cousin to ravish you again the next time I saw you.”

  The flush that rose to her cheeks told him she was not as immune to the threat as she wanted to be. She lifted her eyes defiantly to his. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “I wouldn’t wager on it, love.”

  The tone of his voice must have impressed her. Her eyes widened a little, and she took a definitive step back. “What happened to you? You are acting like a brigand.”

  Christ, not her, too! Her calling him Randy was bad enough. “I fell in love, that’s what happened.” He paused. “I was scared out of my mind, Izzie. If he’d hurt you, it would have been my fault.”

  His expression and the pained sound in his voice must have penetrated. It was with some compassion that she assured him, “Don’t be ridiculous. It had nothing to do with you. I should have expected something like that. I knew he would not just give up, but I’d convinced myself he had.”

  “Because you wanted to leave. Because I drove you away. Because you didn’t think I cared about you. But I love you, Izzie.”

  At least she didn’t roll her eyes or pretend she didn’t hear him this time—which was progress, he supposed. “And so you decided to abduct me and lock me in this wreck of a tower on an island until I agree to marry you? This is how you intend to prove it to me?”

  “It was supposed to be romantic. And you’re not a prisoner. Although you might have trouble finding someone who will ferry you across.”

  She gave him a long look. “I wonder about you, Randy. Really, I do.”

  He still didn’t like the nickname, but it was oddly fitting coming from her. She had a way of knocking him down a peg or two, and he conceded that maybe he might need it every now and then.

  “And what am I supposed to do all day while I am not being held prisoner?”

  He lifted a brow and gave her a wickedly suggestive look. “I can think of a few things.”

  Sadly, she didn’t bite. “Not a chance.”

  He shrugged, not surprised but disappointed all the same. “This place is a mess. There is parchment and quills in your room—fix it.” He started to walk toward the sea, needing a cool dip before he did something he regretted like lift her in his arms and carry her up those damned stairs himself. He turned just before he passed beyond the gate. “Don’t make me wait too long, Izzie. I’m not a patient man by nature, and I’m liable to take matters into my own hands.”

  They both knew what he meant, and from the pink that darkened her cheeks, he knew the idea wasn’t as offensive to her as she wanted it to be.

  Izzie knew what it felt like to be a mouse. For two weeks she’d been hunted by a very wicked, very sneaky, very feral cat that seemed ready to pounce on her for the kill. She wanted to say that she was immune to his efforts to convince her that he loved her, but the truth was that the once-vaunted knight turned ravishing, abducting brigand was wearing her down. She didn’t know what was more difficult to believe—that he’d abducted her or that he’d announced it (and her ravishment) to the world. He’d destroyed his perfect knight image for her, and it was hard not to think it meant something.

  Every day he devised some devious method of knocking down the walls she’d erected around her heart. He’d laid siege to her battered emotions with such a powerful show of force, she had new respect for the English garrison at Edinburgh for holding out as long as they did. Sir Thomas Randolph knew how to wage a war—there was a reason he’d become one of the king’s most trusted advisors—and he was putting the full force of those talents at work against her.

  What chance did she have?

  Every morning he joined her to break her fast, after which he planned some morning activity—from fishing in a secluded bay on one side of the island (she’d declined the offer to swim), to long walks along the seaside where they would discuss everything from the war to the future role he hoped to take in his uncle’s government, to what to do after the war to prevent another English king from attempting to assert authority over Scotland, to his views on managing his own lands and farming, to his favorite stories and, of course, music.

  She was entranced by it all. He shared his thoughts without moderation or calculation. He talked freely for what she suspe