slowly lifted in a cruel smile. "Oh but you do, Aleysia. You want me as badly as I want you."
"I hate you!"
His jaw tensed, the nerve working there. "You will be my woman, Aleysia. You would be wise to accept that."
"I am not your woman, nor will I ever be." She ignored the warning bells in her head and slapped his hand away. "I will marry Laird MacMillan."
With a flick of his wrist he pulled her against him. "You are my woman, not MacMillan's. Think you he would still want you, knowing that you came willingly to my bed?"
The words were as effective as a sharp slap to the face. "I did what I must for duty's sake. Little did I know you would not hold up your end of the bargain. Duncan will forgive me."
His eyes narrowed dangerously.
A blush raced up her cheeks but she forced herself to keep his gaze. "Duncan is a gentleman and he will have me still. He loves me— and I love him," she lied.
He flinched as though she'd struck him. "And what if you carry my babe? Would he still love you then?"
Her stomach rolled, for honestly she did not know the answer. In truth, she could already be carrying de Wulf s child. She had heard of women being ostracized from their villages because they'd given birth to a bastard child. "Duncan would raise the babe as his own."
"He will not have the opportunity," Renaud snarled through gritted teeth. "And he will not have you."
"I am not your property, bought and paid for. I am a woman who can make her own decisions and I choose to return to Scotland, to my betrothed."
His fingers gripped her arm tighter. "I thought you wanted to be imprisoned with your brother?"
A sudden knock at the door made her jump. In truth, she was thankful for the interruption. However, it appeared Renaud felt differently as he scowled at the door. "Go away!" he yelled.
"My lord, there is an urgent matter you need to attend to," Galeran said, his tone intent.
Cursing under his breath, Renaud released her before striding toward the door. He wrenched it open.
Galeran stood with a handful of men, all wearing full chain mail. "Laird MacMillan requests your presence." The vassal's gaze shifted to Aleysia. "He says to bring his woman."
Relief rushed over Aleysia in waves. Duncan was here, and he would bargain for their lives! Hope stirred within her.
Renaud's lethal gaze locked with hers. There was a dangerous gleam in his eye that made her mouth go dry. "You can wipe that smile from your face, Aleysia—for Laird MacMillan will be leaving Braemere without you."
CHAPTER 6
Duncan MacMillan was a big man. Tall and barrel-chested, with long red hair and a full beard, the Scot sat astride his horse, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. At least ten years Renaud's senior, he looked every bit the hot-blooded Scottish laird that he was.
How Renaud hated him.
Duncan is a gentleman and he will have me still. He loves me— and I love him. Aleysia's words still burned in his ears. Did she truly love this man who was old enough to be her father? A man who would no doubt treat her like a child rather than an equal?
Their fevered lovemaking made him think not. Of course love and desire were two different things entirely. His own mother had sworn love and loyalty to his father, then left him for another. Women were devious creatures, not to be trusted.
"My lord, you know he will not leave Braemere without his woman."
Renaud glanced at Galeran, who rode beside him, along with his most trusted men-at-arms, out of the bailey, toward the field where the Scot and his army awaited. "Aleysia is not his woman, and he cannot have her."
Galeran's lips quirked. "I do believe she has gotten under your skin, my lord. I know it is not my place to say, but please be wary. Remember what your father always said."
Indeed. His father's words had been running through his mind from the moment Renaud had set eyes on Aleysia. The problem was, he could not purge the Saxon from his thoughts, no matter how hard he tried. She even
"I hate you!"
His jaw tensed, the nerve working there. "You will be my woman, Aleysia. You would be wise to accept that."
"I am not your woman, nor will I ever be." She ignored the warning bells in her head and slapped his hand away. "I will marry Laird MacMillan."
With a flick of his wrist he pulled her against him. "You are my woman, not MacMillan's. Think you he would still want you, knowing that you came willingly to my bed?"
The words were as effective as a sharp slap to the face. "I did what I must for duty's sake. Little did I know you would not hold up your end of the bargain. Duncan will forgive me."
His eyes narrowed dangerously.
A blush raced up her cheeks but she forced herself to keep his gaze. "Duncan is a gentleman and he will have me still. He loves me— and I love him," she lied.
He flinched as though she'd struck him. "And what if you carry my babe? Would he still love you then?"
Her stomach rolled, for honestly she did not know the answer. In truth, she could already be carrying de Wulf s child. She had heard of women being ostracized from their villages because they'd given birth to a bastard child. "Duncan would raise the babe as his own."
"He will not have the opportunity," Renaud snarled through gritted teeth. "And he will not have you."
"I am not your property, bought and paid for. I am a woman who can make her own decisions and I choose to return to Scotland, to my betrothed."
His fingers gripped her arm tighter. "I thought you wanted to be imprisoned with your brother?"
A sudden knock at the door made her jump. In truth, she was thankful for the interruption. However, it appeared Renaud felt differently as he scowled at the door. "Go away!" he yelled.
"My lord, there is an urgent matter you need to attend to," Galeran said, his tone intent.
Cursing under his breath, Renaud released her before striding toward the door. He wrenched it open.
Galeran stood with a handful of men, all wearing full chain mail. "Laird MacMillan requests your presence." The vassal's gaze shifted to Aleysia. "He says to bring his woman."
Relief rushed over Aleysia in waves. Duncan was here, and he would bargain for their lives! Hope stirred within her.
Renaud's lethal gaze locked with hers. There was a dangerous gleam in his eye that made her mouth go dry. "You can wipe that smile from your face, Aleysia—for Laird MacMillan will be leaving Braemere without you."
CHAPTER 6
Duncan MacMillan was a big man. Tall and barrel-chested, with long red hair and a full beard, the Scot sat astride his horse, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. At least ten years Renaud's senior, he looked every bit the hot-blooded Scottish laird that he was.
How Renaud hated him.
Duncan is a gentleman and he will have me still. He loves me— and I love him. Aleysia's words still burned in his ears. Did she truly love this man who was old enough to be her father? A man who would no doubt treat her like a child rather than an equal?
Their fevered lovemaking made him think not. Of course love and desire were two different things entirely. His own mother had sworn love and loyalty to his father, then left him for another. Women were devious creatures, not to be trusted.
"My lord, you know he will not leave Braemere without his woman."
Renaud glanced at Galeran, who rode beside him, along with his most trusted men-at-arms, out of the bailey, toward the field where the Scot and his army awaited. "Aleysia is not his woman, and he cannot have her."
Galeran's lips quirked. "I do believe she has gotten under your skin, my lord. I know it is not my place to say, but please be wary. Remember what your father always said."
Indeed. His father's words had been running through his mind from the moment Renaud had set eyes on Aleysia. The problem was, he could not purge the Saxon from his thoughts, no matter how hard he tried. She even
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