Loving Her Highland Enemy by Samantha Holt (best thriller novels of all time .txt) 📕

A ride in the biting cold might get rid of any lingering desire and help him to think with a straight mind. Lord knew, he wasn’t used to things being so complicated.

He fought, he ate, he drank and he occasionally bedded a lass or two. He had meant to marry a Sinclair, end the rift, have a few babes and likely continue fighting the Campbells. With the arrival of Leana, that simple idea seemed preposterous. There was nothing simple about her.

He made his way to the stables, taking his time in saddling the horse.  He frowned while he pulled the leather strap through. A more loyal clan member would have told his father everything so why the devil was he protecting the woman?

“Tavish?”

He twisted at the sound of her voice, his jaw set.

He widened his eyes. “God’s wounds.”

Leana staggered a few paces toward him, her clothing soaked and filthy, blood dripping from one wrist, landing on the snow in stark crimson droplets.

He grabbed her wrist first, eyeing the raw skin. “What happened?”

“Someone took me captive. Tried to kill me.” Her gaze met his. “They know who I am. And I think they mean ye harm.”

Chapter Seven

Maggie’s face paled and Leana grimaced. She didn’t want Maggie involved in this at all.

The maid clapped hands to her ashen cheeks, making little slap noises. “What happened?” She grabbed Leana’s wrist from where Leana had been carefully cradling it while Tavish aided her to her chamber. “Oh sweet Mary, yer bleeding.”

“It looks worse than it is,” Leana assured her.

“Why do ye no’ get some clean cloths and water so we can clean it?” Tavish suggested, a hand to Leana’s waist as he guided her to sit on the bed.

Maggie glanced between them, seeming frozen, then jolted into action when Leana hissed out a breath of pain. Her wrist had been rubbed raw and stung like the devil. Blood dripped down her fingertips, landing in gory wet splashes on the wooden floor. She dabbed her arm against her kirtle in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

“Aye, I’ll do that.” Maggie snatched her skirts and hastened out of the door, her footsteps thudding away until a door slammed.

Leana managed a weak smile. “She cares deeply for me.”

“That I can see.” He tapped the door shut with a foot and kneeled in front of her, taking her wrist in his huge hands with a surprisingly gentle touch and then turning it over, this way and that. “Someone bound ye.”

“Aye, and I escaped.”

He used the sleeve of his shirt to dab away the blood and held it there. She sucked in a breath through her teeth.

“Where did they take ye?”

“One of the caves. I cannae say which one. I scarce looked back when I fled but the tide was coming in.”

Tavish’s mouth thinned into a tight line. “I know which one and ‘tis not easily visible from the sea. Only the clan knows of its existence.” He pushed a damp, bedraggled strand from her face. “I fear someone in the clan did this to ye.”

She nodded. “I know they did. And somehow they know of me.”

“What happened? What did they say?”

“They threw a bag over my head and bound me.” She frowned. “I couldnae see a thing but they were taller than me and strong.” She made a disgusted noise. “That doesnae aid us much, does it? All of yer men are stronger and taller than me.”

“Well, we know ‘tis no’ a lass,” he said with a grim smile.

“Aye. His voice was deep and gravelly. I didnae recognize it.” She pressed her lips together. “He said I wouldnae get in the way of his plans and that no one would find me there. I’m certain he hoped I would drown there.”

He nodded. “Those caves fill at high tide. What the devil sort of plans could he have meant?”

“I cannae be sure but I think he meant ye and yer clan harm. He bound me to a rock. I wouldnae have been found.”

He muttered a curse. “I shouldnae have left ye.”

Leana met his pained gaze. “Ye couldnae have known that was going to happen and I lay no blame at yer feet for leaving me.”

“Ye were honest with me and I couldnae ask for more than that. I could never understand what it felt like to lose all yer family.”

She bit down on her bottom lip, eyeing the bloodstains on the white of her skirts. “I still want revenge, but I dinnae believe I want it against yer family.”

“I’d like ye to get it.”

She lifted her gaze to his. His eyes were warm against the strong features of his face, the little white scars revealing his battle history and the dimple in his chin softening the harsh line of his jaw. His lips remained pulled into a fierce line of determination, but she gained comfort from it all. If she couldn’t get revenge on her own, Tavish would aid her in finding out who truly killed her mother and ensure they paid the price for it.

“I thought I wanted blood spilled but it seems I didnae have the heart.”

“Because ye knew ye were wrong,” he reminded her.

“Aye. I dinnae think a man who could burn women and children could sire a son like ye.”

“Och, yer flattering me now.”

She let her mouth curve upward. “Well, dinnae get used to it.”

The door burst open and Maggie entered in a flurry, waving strips of fabric in the air. The strips trailed behind her like streaming banners and tangled around one of her legs. She stumbled, cursed and dropped the jug she carried onto the table before untangling herself.

“Och, I’m all a fluster.” She poured out the water. “How is she, my poor lamb?”

Tavish’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “She’s well.”

“Is she in pain?” Maggie dipped a cloth in the water. “Can she feel her fingers? Should I get her a dram of whiskey?”

“Maggie, I’m here ye know and am no’