and pinned her body with his own against the stone wall. Before she realized his intent, he jerked her dagger from its sheath.
Outrage cloaked her face. “You gave me your word!”
“Quiet!” he growled, working to catch his breath and ward off the throbbing wound in his right side. A sticky warmth oozed down his flesh. Bedamned. The gash he had staunched with cloth had broken open. Seathan scanned their surroundings.
The corridor remained empty.
“Release me!”
Though she was clad in a thick cloak, it couldn’t hide her slender frame or her tempting curves beneath. His fevered body stirred with interest.
“I said quiet,” Seathan warned, owing his body’s response to exhaustion. Well he understood the turmoil incited by desires of the flesh. Needs clouded one’s keen judgment and left rational men with the common sense of an ass. Once lust cleared, a man’s emotions lay ravaged and the woman was gone.
Many years had passed since a lass had stirred this depth of awareness within him. And with each, a cold reminder of the penance for poor decisions made.
As if she sensed his wayward thoughts, fear flickered in her eyes. “I said release me!”
“Lass—”
She dug her nails into his arms as she fought to break free.
Seathan caught her hands and pressed them above her head against the wall, his body trembling from the effort. “I will not harm you,” he ground out, silently damning her actions, which left their bodies splayed in an intimate press.
“If you do not let me go, I will scream!”
He clasped her wrists with one hand, moved his other to muffle her, but at her partial freedom, she jammed her elbow into his bruised rib. On a curse, he recaptured her wrist and held it back, his face inches from her own.
She opened her mouth to scream.
Bedamned. In a purely tactical decision, he covered her mouth with his own.
The shot of lust inside him was immediate.
Hot.
Destroying.
The lass froze as if stunned by his boldness, then she twisted to break free.
He held her tight. By God, she’d not raise the guard. Seathan angled his mouth and deepened the kiss.
Her struggles weakened. She held, not kissing him back, but not resisting.
He touched his tongue to hers, soft, seducing, wanting her totally lost to sensation. And he’d guessed correctly. Her mouth was sin itself. Her taste, a softness that lured a man back for more.
He rolled with the tide of sensations, a mixture of heat, of his own desperation and need. The cell around him faded, the aches pounding through him fell away as he sank into the kiss. On a soft moan, she leaned against him and began kissing him back, hesitant, unsure, as if a flower daring to open beneath the first rays of the sun.
The fumbling inexperience of her efforts, the tiny gasps of pleasure as she moved her lips against his own, seduced him as effectively as if she were a seasoned courtesan. His mind blurred as his body took full control. Wanting to touch her, to savor the velvet sweep of her skin beneath his fingers, to drive her over the edge before he sank deep into her silken depths, he released one of her wrists.
A guard’s call echoed in the distance.
Seathan broke free, his pulse racing, his blood pounding hot, and recaptured her hand. He stared at the beguiling woman, stunned, amazed, and still wanting her.
What in bloody hell? He’d meant to silence her. To keep her from bringing every knight within the castle from rushing to the dungeon. But need had poured through him in a blistering wash, smothering even his pain, and for a moment he had willingly drowned.
Neither did he miss the desire still burning in her eyes, flames that ate at his control and invited him back.
The pulse at the base of her neck raced. “Our bargain,” she hissed, “was for you to escort me to the Highlands, nothing more.”
If the situation weren’t so dire, he would have laughed. Here she stood trapped by an armed warrior twice her size and she dared to argue?
But in this she was correct. He had given his word. To her good fortune, he was a man of principles.
Gritting his teeth against the pain and willing his body to calm, Seathan released her and stepped back. He wasn’t sure what reaction to expect from her, but her wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as if she found his taste foul wasn’t one that suited his pride.
He caught her shoulders and dragged her to within a hand’s breadth of his chest. The male in him demanded she acknowledge the heat that had surged between them. Regardless of her initial rebuke, if he touched her now, with her willing response of moments before, he might seduce her.
Another guard called in the distance.
Eyes wide, she glanced down the corridor. Her worried expression convinced him his instincts proved right; she was involved with something more than a simple plot to ensure their escape.
The last of his desire fled.
“Who are you?” Though softly spoken, his words were laced with menace.
Silence.
“Tell me or I swear I will secure you within the cell and depart.”
Panic flashed in her eyes. “Your honor rests on your word.”
“Aye, to take you to the Highlands, but not to be used as prey for one of Lord Tearlach’s twisted games. Your name!”
At the mention of the viscount, her face paled. “Linet.” She shot another nervous glance down the dungeon. “If we are discovered…”
Another guard called out, this time closer.
“’Twould seem he is searching for his drugged counterparts.” Seathan caught her hand. “Come.”
“Wait!”
He tightened his grip and hauled her down the eastern corridor.
The lass fought him. “Not that way! We must use the secret passage.”
Seathan rounded on her, winced at the pull on his wound. “If you value your life, this had best not be a trap.”
She shook her head. “I want my freedom as much as you.”
And for an unexplainable reason, be it the stubborn lift of her chin, or the desperation in her voice, Seathan believed her. Not that he would tell her. Or let down his guard.
“Which way?” he demanded.
“Toward the stairs.”
He looked past the unmoving guards and
