The Highland Laird's Bride. Nicole Locke
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The brightness of his hair didn’t blend, the broadness of his shoulders and bulk of his build like a boulder that suddenly appeared amongst the tall and graceful tree trunks.
He was wrong to be here as well. This forest was hers. Clan Colquhoun had no place here. But he was there, like a storm that kept battering against her.
Her hand fluttering to the hidden blade at her waist, she rounded on him. ‘I showed you what you wanted to see. Why did you follow me?’
‘We were in front of your clan and mine. My not leaving the village with you would have looked like a slight. So I strolled out with you as if we wished to talk privately.’
Stroll, she had practically ran here, but he kept his pace with her and wasn’t out of breath. To everyone, they probably did look as though they walked away from the village. Again, she made a foolish choice. She was unused to wondering what others thought or what appearances should be.
She had been hidden away most of her life, and for the rest of it, she hid herself away. She was hiding now, but the Colquhoun wouldn’t leave her alone. She clenched the blade she’d hidden in her clothes.
‘So we talked privately and now you can go!’
‘Nae, we must truly talk. We must come to an agreement.’
The competition again. His tone changed until it was as blunt as hers. It wouldn’t make her change her mind on its futility, especially when he used the word ‘must’. The very word curbed her freedom. She had heard it from her stepmother and in the end from her father.
She knew he would continue to argue about the games until she couldn’t refuse. However, what Bram couldn’t control was how the competition would go.
Bram might bring his food and his supplies. He might order this competition. But she would choose who the winner would be.
Bram didn’t move. He didn’t even realise he needed to move, until she threw the knife just past his left ear.
She knew he hadn’t seen the blade, but there was no mistaking the fury and the shock in his eyes when he heard the thunk of it embedding in the tree behind him.
Brutal silence as storm-grey eyes stared at her.
Lioslath smiled. ‘That’s my agreement to your competition. Satisfied, Colquhoun?’
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