Read Online A Perfect Knight For Love by Jackie Ivie - Free Book Online Page A

Here a man’s worth was based not just on which clan he hailed from and how rich they were, but on how strong he was, how many men he commanded, and how many obeyed. Amalie had been told Highlanders thrived on proving a man’s worth. They took land and belongings as a sign of it. Women were nothing more than chattel, to be used and discarded once they’d served their purpose.
    Amalie had listened to the woman from the posting coach with skepticism. She’d suspected envy, since the other lady was old and plain, and going to a position in a much lower ranking household. She’d dismissed the warnings as little more than bedtime tales to frighten and entertain. Now she realized the other woman had spared the sensitivities with her descriptions.
    How stupid and naïve could she have been?
    Amalie missed Dunn-Fyne’s first words once they reached him. She guessed at their content from Thayne’s reply as it rumbled through where her nose was pressed.
    “Well . . . I did have her gagged,” he said.
    “You need help . . . you ask.”
    Amalie shoved closer to Thayne’s bulk as the sound of a whip slashed the air. But neither horse moved, so it had to be her imagination, or her fear, combined with how open and insecure and out-of-place everything felt.
    “You’re blocking us from our rest, and the bairn is crying for her mother.”
    Thayne’s solid tone of voice matched the solid strength of each heartbeat. Hers were flying through her ears, each one making her more and more light-headed, while his sounded as steady as the lap of waves upon the shore.
    “You still claiming the wee one?” Dunn-Fyne queried.
    “I sired it. Why would na’ I claim it?”
    “And the wench?”
    “Wife, Dunn-Fyne. Wife. This here’s my wife. I’ll be thanking you to speak correct about it.”
    The man grunted something. Thayne moved the hand with the reins to hold her back, cushioning and protecting. Or hiding her shaking.
    “Until this eve,” the man replied.
    Thayne’s hand started moving, running up and down her spine, where her plaid should be muting the feeling. Amalie sagged into it, trembling in place, while hearing the same words and seeing the same things over and over in her mind.
    “I take it you’ve decided in my favor?” he finally asked.
    “Don’t let him touch me! Please? I’ll do it! I will! But . . . don’t let him touch me!”
    A breath carrying what sounded like amusement brushed her cheeks, warming the skin. Amalie cracked open an eye, then the other, and blinked. He was looking down at her with eyebrows lifted and his lips pursed in amusement. He had his hair pulled back, looking dark and shiny with the wet, and then a drop of rain dripped off his nose onto hers.
    “You’re the oddest thing. You argue endlessly with me, yet one word from Dunn-Fyne—”
    “Please?”
    “Lass.” He lifted her, speaking the words against her chin and then along her jawline. Amalie sucked on a gasp filled with moisture. “You doona’ listen to the smallest thing. I already told you. What a MacGowan claims . . . he keeps.”
    Amalie opened her mouth to answer, but he didn’t give her the time. She was already smashed against him and that was made more intimate and more grasping and more everything with his kiss. Hard lips melded to hers, completely halting everything and then there was nothing but her and him and a surge of something warm and thrilling and breath-stealing.
    She was in its thrall as he lifted his head, sending hard breaths all along her that matched the increased thump of his heartbeat. He was also holding her atop that strange hard lump of him again, and pushing against her hips to make certain of the connection, and groaning slightly.
    “We must . . . slow this. Jesu’, woman, but you’re blessed. Fully. We need to cease this! And rapid-like. Right now. Or Dunn-Fyne has his vengeance full score.”
    Amalie had been swaying atop him, enjoying the tremor that scored the skin in front of her eyes. She