Read Online Lois Greiman by The Princess, Her Pirate - Free Book Online Page B

and kissed the veins that throbbed rhythmically in her wrist.
    Her body jerked at the unaccustomed contact. “Cease,” she commanded.
    He raised his gaze to hers as if worried. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
    She sharpened her scowl. Her heart was beating overtime, and her breath was coming fast. Faster even than when he had threatened her. “Unhand me or you shall surely rue the day.”
    “Rue the day.” He smiled at that. “You speak very well, for a murderous thief,” he said, and kissed the bend of her elbow.
    “Desist, MacTavish, or you shall regret your actions.”
    “I have many regrets,” he said, and when he raised his gaze to hers, it seemed almost that she could see them there, shadowed by a veil of bravado, but still visible. “I doubt if touching you will be amongst the worst of them.”
    She stared into his eyes, trying to read his thoughts, trying to discern the regrets, but in that moment he grinned, laughing at her attempts. She yanked at her hand, but it was an exercise in futility, for he held it fast.
    “Release me,” she breathed.
    He smiled. “I only wish to make certain you are unhurt.”
    “Then mayhap you should not have thrown me into prison with a pair of degenerate rapists.”
    Something snapped in his eyes again. “Surely you’ve been in worse places.”
    His hand was easing up her arm toward her shoulder.
    “Let go of me.”
    “Does that hurt?” He squeezed her upper arm gently. She scowled.
    “You are making a horrible mistake.”
    He skimmed his hand over her shoulder. “All is well here?”
    “You do not know who you are dealing with, MacTavish.”
    Turning his hand slightly, he brushed his knuckles along her collarbone. “I believe you said your name was Linnet Mulrooney.”
    “Mulgrave,” she corrected, but his knuckles were inching downward, sapping her strength. They skimmed as slow as sunrise over her bodice, not detouring an inch as they slipped over her nipple.
    “Nothing amiss there?”
    She stilled a shiver. “Let me go now, and I’ll not seek retribution.”
    He smiled. Something knotted in her gut. “Tell me, lass, who would do the retributing?” he asked and laying his hand flat, pressed it gently down her ribs.
    “ Retributing is not a proper word.”
    His smile remained. No, she did not care about a man’slooks, but his smile did unfathomable things to her insides.
    “How would you seek revenge, wee Megs?”
    “I have friends.”
    “Any not wanted for murder and rape?”
    “You are not the one to speak of rape,” she said.
    His eyes darkened, but finally he nodded. “You’re right. I am surely not above a little rape. Still, I should have known better than to send such a fragile thing into a den of…” He paused. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “…miscreants.”
    “ Miscreants . ’Tis a pitiably weak word for the beasts I endured.” His hand skimmed over her hip and onto her thigh.
    “He who wastes not, wants not. I’m saving my best words.”
    He was tugging at her skirts, lifting them up her leg, baring her shins, her knees. She stared at the progress, then raised an imperious brow. She could do so, she knew, without a single wrinkle showing in her forehead. Nicol had dubbed it the ice princess glare. “If you hope to frighten me, MacTavish, you will be sorely disappointed, for I fear I’ve endured far worse than you.”
    “I’m flattered,” he said, and, wrapping his hands around her ankle, eased them up her leg. “But nay, sweet Megs, I don’t mean to frighten you.”
    She held her breath as his fingers squeezed up her knee.
    “Any pain there?”
    “What is your intent?”
    He smiled. “You may be a murderous thief, Megs, but you are a bonny murderous thief, and I am currently without a mistress.”
    She felt her body go momentarily numb, and though she ordered herself to remain still, to withstand his ministrations, she could not. Instead, she jerked her knees up to her chest, slapping her skirts down below her feet