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Authors: Joanna Fulford
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the hoof beats behind thudding like her own heartbeat. However, though the mare was game her speed was no match for the bigger horse. Worse, the trees ended suddenly and the track came out into open land once more. Two minutes later the grey drew level and a strong hand grabbed the rein, drawing her horse to a gradual halt. Before a word could be spoken Ashlynn kicked free of the stirrups and leapt from the saddle. Then she ran, heading back for the cover of the trees in a last desperate bid for freedom. She had covered only fifty yards before a powerful arm swooped down. Moments later it drew her up on to the front of the saddle and locked around her. She fought the hold, struggling wildly. Reining the horse to a halt, Iain glowered at her.
‘Be still, you little hellion!’ Then, as the words had no effect. ‘Stop this now, Ashlynn.’
‘Let me go!’
‘You know damned well I won’t.’
Ashlynn twisted and slapped him hard. His jaw tightened and the dark eyes took on an expression that caused her stomach to turn over. Too late she realised that some unspecified line had been crossed and she was now in real trouble. Without another word he dismounted, dragging her off the horse after him. Ashlynn kicked and fought, cursing him roundly, managing only to deliver another ringing slap before she was thrown to the ground and pinned her there with a knee in her back. Iain glared down at his writhing captive.
‘By God, I’ll teach you to obey me, you little wildcat.’
‘Get your hands off me, you Scottish bastard!’
‘Scottish bastard is it?’ Iain drew a length of cord from the leather pouch on his belt. ‘Well then, I may as well live up to my reputation.’
Moments later she was bound hand and foot. Beside herself with fury, Ashlynn fought the rope even as she delivered a lengthy and blistering assessment of his character. Iain paused a moment and regarded his captive keenly.
‘It seems to me that you’re in no position to deliver insults, lass.’
‘You deserve every one, you black-hearted villain.’
‘Keep it up and I promise I’ll warm your backside with my belt, you contrary little besom.’
It had been on the tip of her tongue to say he wouldn’t dare but she choked the words off. The brute would not only do it but would enjoy it too. He had no sense of shame. Too late she was beginning to understand how he had earned his name. It was perhaps fortunate that she did not see the satisfied smirk that accompanied her sudden silence. A large hand hauled her upright. Then, adding insult to injury, he tucked her effortlessly under one arm and carried her to her horse. Moments later she was slung across the saddle like a sack of meal and tied there securely. After that he remounted and, having retrieved her horse’s reins, set off again. Incandescent with rage now, Ashlynn tested her bonds, but to no avail. They weren’t cruelly tight but they were fast. The brute had known exactly what he was about. The final humiliation would be returning thus to his waiting men. Almost she could hear their laughter.
However, Iain made no effort to retrace their earlier route but continued on his present course for another hour or so. To Ashlynn he spoke not at all, or she to him. For a while hot temper and a strong sense of grievance kept her from noticing the discomfort of her position. However, as the time wore on it made itself felt, and she began to repent of her earlier actions. Her bound limbs ached; the saddle pressed hard against her midriff and the chill was more apparent. More than anything she wanted to be freed from her bonds. If he would just cut her loose she would agree to ride anywhere he wished. Only pride kept her silent.
* * *
The light was going when at last the horses came to a halt before a small farmhouse. A man came out and, from his ready greeting, it was clear that Iain was no stranger to him. To Ashlynn he paid no heed at all. The two men exchanged a few words and, having directed
‘Be still, you little hellion!’ Then, as the words had no effect. ‘Stop this now, Ashlynn.’
‘Let me go!’
‘You know damned well I won’t.’
Ashlynn twisted and slapped him hard. His jaw tightened and the dark eyes took on an expression that caused her stomach to turn over. Too late she realised that some unspecified line had been crossed and she was now in real trouble. Without another word he dismounted, dragging her off the horse after him. Ashlynn kicked and fought, cursing him roundly, managing only to deliver another ringing slap before she was thrown to the ground and pinned her there with a knee in her back. Iain glared down at his writhing captive.
‘By God, I’ll teach you to obey me, you little wildcat.’
‘Get your hands off me, you Scottish bastard!’
‘Scottish bastard is it?’ Iain drew a length of cord from the leather pouch on his belt. ‘Well then, I may as well live up to my reputation.’
Moments later she was bound hand and foot. Beside herself with fury, Ashlynn fought the rope even as she delivered a lengthy and blistering assessment of his character. Iain paused a moment and regarded his captive keenly.
‘It seems to me that you’re in no position to deliver insults, lass.’
‘You deserve every one, you black-hearted villain.’
‘Keep it up and I promise I’ll warm your backside with my belt, you contrary little besom.’
It had been on the tip of her tongue to say he wouldn’t dare but she choked the words off. The brute would not only do it but would enjoy it too. He had no sense of shame. Too late she was beginning to understand how he had earned his name. It was perhaps fortunate that she did not see the satisfied smirk that accompanied her sudden silence. A large hand hauled her upright. Then, adding insult to injury, he tucked her effortlessly under one arm and carried her to her horse. Moments later she was slung across the saddle like a sack of meal and tied there securely. After that he remounted and, having retrieved her horse’s reins, set off again. Incandescent with rage now, Ashlynn tested her bonds, but to no avail. They weren’t cruelly tight but they were fast. The brute had known exactly what he was about. The final humiliation would be returning thus to his waiting men. Almost she could hear their laughter.
However, Iain made no effort to retrace their earlier route but continued on his present course for another hour or so. To Ashlynn he spoke not at all, or she to him. For a while hot temper and a strong sense of grievance kept her from noticing the discomfort of her position. However, as the time wore on it made itself felt, and she began to repent of her earlier actions. Her bound limbs ached; the saddle pressed hard against her midriff and the chill was more apparent. More than anything she wanted to be freed from her bonds. If he would just cut her loose she would agree to ride anywhere he wished. Only pride kept her silent.
* * *
The light was going when at last the horses came to a halt before a small farmhouse. A man came out and, from his ready greeting, it was clear that Iain was no stranger to him. To Ashlynn he paid no heed at all. The two men exchanged a few words and, having directed
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