The Viper Read online

  There’d been no question of sending MacKay. They needed a skilled rider to sneak past Buchan’s defenses. Lachlan qualified, but Bruce had put him in charge.

  This was his mission, curse it.

  Or what was left of it, anyway. The coronation was set for tomorrow, and they were still nearly a two-days’ ride away.

  He’d underestimated Buchan’s resources and his determination. He must have half his men scouring the countryside for his wife. The hunt had gotten perilously close for a while, but Lachlan had chosen their hiding place well, and it appeared that the last of Buchan’s men had finally moved off.

  They’d wait a few hours before leaving, just to make sure.

  It was almost over—thank God! He couldn’t wait to have this job behind him.

  The past two days had been hell, and Bella MacDuff was his own personal demon. He wished he could say it was because she was a pain in the arse: making unrealistic demands, criticizing, or otherwise complaining about their situation.

  But he couldn’t.

  Actually, he was forced to admit that she’d adapted quite well to their less-than-luxurious accommodations. Most noblewomen he knew would have sat on a rock and expected to be waited on when not bemoaning their wretched fate. But the proud little countess had taken it upon herself to sweep out the cave, dust off the spiderwebs, and wash their meager eating supplies, offering to help—MacKay, that is, not him—whenever she could.

  She might look soft and vulnerable on the outside, but she had spirit. Bold, strong, and proud, he suspected there was very little that would defeat Bella MacDuff. Hell, with what she was about to do, she was going to need that strength.

  It wasn’t a shrewish or demanding personality that set him on edge. What set him on edge was his own damned reaction to her. One glimpse of those substantial curves, one word from that sensual mouth, or one sniff of that sweet feminine scent and he was hit with a bolt of lust that was getting harder and harder to ignore.

  The cave was too bloody small. He’d made the mistake of bumping into her once and nearly jumped out of his damned skin.

  She might despise him, but his cock didn’t care. The weakness infuriated him. It was as if eight years of control had caught up with him all at once.

  He steeled himself for entering the cave and was about to give the whistle that indicated his approach, when a tinkle of laughter stopped him in his tracks.

  The soft, husky sound floated through the darkness, shimmering over his skin like a hot caress, setting his nerve endings on edge. Every muscle in his body went rigid. His hands fisted at his side as he fought to cool the surge of heat that had become almost reflexive when he got within fifty feet of her.

  “This is delicious,” he heard her say.

  Even her voice was seductive. Smooth and soft as warm cream.

  MacKay mumbled some reply, and Lachlan felt his anger spike, imagining the fierce warrior preening under her praise.

  He took a few more steps toward the cave, enabling him to get a glimpse inside. The soft cascade of blond waves falling down her back caught the light in a golden glow. He could imagine it pouring over his skin like a warm satin veil. He wanted to dig his fingers through it. Rub his face in it. Inhale the deep, fragrant scent.

  Hell. The cold burn was beckoning. Again.

  “Who could have imagined that raw fish could be so delicious?” She used her dainty fingers to pick up another chunk from the plate MacKay had fashioned from a piece of wood plank. Considerate bastard. “What is this sauce that you’ve put on it?”

  MacKay’s mouth curved, and Lachlan felt his fists clench even tighter. “It’s just some herbs and a bit of wine.”

  “And you found all this nearby? You are a man of most useful skills, Magnus MacKay.”

  Lachlan felt a hard spike of irritation. MacKay picked a few herbs and she lavished praise on him as if he’d turned water into wine. Whereas Lachlan had spent hours—days—in the rain ensuring that no one approached to kill them, and all he got was a few angry glares when she was forced to acknowledge his existence.

  He didn’t like this dark feeling simmering inside him. A feeling that made him want to slam his fist into MacKay’s formidable jaw for no reason.

  There was nothing improper about their behavior. She just seemed to genuinely like the big Highlander, which was in stark contrast to the loathing she felt for him.

  Being loathed was nothing new, so why was it bothering him now?

  MacKay shrugged, obviously embarrassed but just as obviously pleased. “It isn’t difficult, if you know what you’re looking for.”

  She laughed again. “But that’s it, isn’t it? I’d ask you to show me, but I fear I’m hopeless when it comes to discerning plants. Joan is the one—”

  She stopped suddenly, and Lachlan braced himself. He felt that annoying pinch in his chest again. If he thought he was capable of it, he would think it was guilt. But he didn’t waste his time beating himself up over things that couldn’t be changed.

  He could hear the emotion thick in her voice when she finished, “My daughter is the one who is good with plants.”

  The rough Highlander’s voice was surprisingly gentle. “You’re worried for the lass.”

  The countess nodded. Though her face was turned away from him, Lachlan knew her eyes were filled with tears. It was that way every time the girl’s name came up.

  “Buchan won’t harm her?” MacKay asked, the edge of steel in his voice.

  She shook her head. “Nay. At least I don’t think so. But I didn’t tell her what I had planned. I never told her I intended to take her with me. And I fear he’ll fill her head with all kinds of horrible lies. I just wish …”

  Her voice fell off. But then her jaw clenched, and her mouth tightened.

  Lachlan wasn’t the only one who’d guessed her thoughts.

  “I don’t like him any better than you do,” MacKay said, “but there was nothing else that MacRuairi could have done—or that anyone could have done—to get your daughter out in time. Not with the explosion set and your husband so close. I’ve seen him get out of some impossible situations, but even he’d be hard pressed to sneak a woman and a child out of a fortress like Balvenie with your husband and his men looking on.”

  God damn it! Lachlan didn’t need MacKay to defend him. He strode angrily into the cave, ignoring MacKay’s chastising frown for not giving the signal, and stopped a few feet away from where they were sitting.

  He resisted the urge to inhale. How the hell did she still smell so good after two days in a cave? He cursed MacKay again, this time for giving her that blasted soap.

  She gave him a quick glance, her eyes still watery with emotion. The annoying pinch in his chest nipped harder.

  “I’m sorry,” he said angrily, not knowing what in the hell he was doing. “I’m sorry we were forced to leave your daughter behind.”

  He swore he could hear MacKay’s mouth drop open.

  The countess looked just as surprised. She lifted her gaze to his again, but this time did not turn sharply away.

  She studied his face. Even though he knew his expression betrayed nothing, it still made him uncomfortable. Damned uncomfortable.

  “But not for lying?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Nay. I had to get you out of there. You would have protested, and we didn’t have time for a delay.”

  “What if I didn’t want to go without my daughter? Did you ever consider that?”

  He gave her a hard, steady look. “Maybe you should be thanking me for not forcing you to have to make that decision.”

  She gasped, her eyes widening a little as his words struck with pointed precision. She’d been so angry at him for lying that she hadn’t thought about what would have happened had he told her the truth: She would have been forced to choose between her daughter and keeping her promise to Bruce. All those lofty ideals of hers would have been held to the test of a mother’s love.

  The stricken look on her face told hi