give me all your lovely money.” The knife flashed as he waved it impatiently at her. “C’mon, c’mon, hand over the wee purse. I’ve not got all night for this.”
Another shadow separated itself from an alleyway and advanced, this young man a close copy of the first. “Hey, she’s a cute wee bird.” He chuckled darkly. “We could have us some fun, we could.”
Morgan’s blood ran cold. Justine had been right.
Again.
But it was a little bit late for second thoughts.
“C’mon! C’mon!”
Morgan eyed the pair of thieves and realized she’d be lucky to get out of this with just the loss of her purse.
Suddenly a bellow echoed through the empty street. It sounded like a boar had gotten loose and wasn’t too pleased about its situation.
Morgan saw no more than a tawny blur before the glint of the knife disappeared. She backed away from the scuffle, uncertain whether the new arrival had come to her rescue of simply wanted the spoils for himself.
The first attacker went down with a yelp and his head hit the pavement with a sick thud. Blood trickled across the sidewalk. A great shadowed figure pivoted and dove after the second attacker, who made the mistake of trying to flee.
He managed to take four steps before he was snatched up from behind.
The boy gave a good fight and cursed eloquently. Morgan caught a glimpse of dirty plaid and the brassy glint of her defender’s hair, and her heart began to pound. Although she knew she should run, Morgan couldn’t help but watch.
No more than a moment later, Alasdair kicked the limp body of the second thief aside. He spat on the pavement between the two, who looked a lot younger than they had just moments before, then his simmering blue gaze locked on Morgan.
She took a cautious step backward, her heart racing.
“What in the holy name of God do you think you are doing?” he roared, then came after her.
Now Morgan ran.
Actually, she hobbled, one heel up and one heel down. But even as she ran, Morgan couldn’t help but wonder hat Alasdair intended to do to her. Hadn’t he said before that he’d toss her over his shoulder and have his way with her?
As much as she hated to admit it, a part of her really liked the idea. She was running as much from that realization as from the highlander.
But she didn’t get far before Alasdair scooped her off her feet and tossed her over his shoulder in one bold move, muttering all the while. Morgan struggled, but his one hand was clamped so firmly over her knees that she wasn’t going anywhere that Alasdair didn’t want her to go.
Her mouth went dry.
“Of all the fool things to be doing, I never would have imagined the likes of you to have so little sense as this!” he raged. “And what manner of foul kingdom is it you have that the common folk show no respect for a queen within their own filthy ranks?”
Alasdair stalked down a shadowed street, and Morgan was surprised to note that it didn’t look so bad on closer inspection. Within moments, they emerged onto a brightly lit and very busy thoroughfare.
“Never have I seen the like of it, though the fault is as much yours as theirs. Did Justine not warn you to not walk alone on these streets? What manner of queen employs advisors, then ignores their counsel?”
Morgan was embarrassed and annoyed to realize how close she had been to comparative safety. Alasdair rounded the corner and strode into a throng of people who eyed them with curiosity.
She wriggled, to no discernible effect. “Um, you can put me down now.”
But Alasdair showed no signs of setting Morgan on her feet. She wasn’t even sure he’d heard her.
“Mere lads they were! Not more than thirteen summers!” His disgust was evident. “What manner of town is it that a boy can find himself such trouble? Where are their sires and their mothers? Have they not decent work to pursue, rather than thieving from women?”
Morgan struggled, not trusting the way her skin heated everywhere she touched
Another shadow separated itself from an alleyway and advanced, this young man a close copy of the first. “Hey, she’s a cute wee bird.” He chuckled darkly. “We could have us some fun, we could.”
Morgan’s blood ran cold. Justine had been right.
Again.
But it was a little bit late for second thoughts.
“C’mon! C’mon!”
Morgan eyed the pair of thieves and realized she’d be lucky to get out of this with just the loss of her purse.
Suddenly a bellow echoed through the empty street. It sounded like a boar had gotten loose and wasn’t too pleased about its situation.
Morgan saw no more than a tawny blur before the glint of the knife disappeared. She backed away from the scuffle, uncertain whether the new arrival had come to her rescue of simply wanted the spoils for himself.
The first attacker went down with a yelp and his head hit the pavement with a sick thud. Blood trickled across the sidewalk. A great shadowed figure pivoted and dove after the second attacker, who made the mistake of trying to flee.
He managed to take four steps before he was snatched up from behind.
The boy gave a good fight and cursed eloquently. Morgan caught a glimpse of dirty plaid and the brassy glint of her defender’s hair, and her heart began to pound. Although she knew she should run, Morgan couldn’t help but watch.
No more than a moment later, Alasdair kicked the limp body of the second thief aside. He spat on the pavement between the two, who looked a lot younger than they had just moments before, then his simmering blue gaze locked on Morgan.
She took a cautious step backward, her heart racing.
“What in the holy name of God do you think you are doing?” he roared, then came after her.
Now Morgan ran.
Actually, she hobbled, one heel up and one heel down. But even as she ran, Morgan couldn’t help but wonder hat Alasdair intended to do to her. Hadn’t he said before that he’d toss her over his shoulder and have his way with her?
As much as she hated to admit it, a part of her really liked the idea. She was running as much from that realization as from the highlander.
But she didn’t get far before Alasdair scooped her off her feet and tossed her over his shoulder in one bold move, muttering all the while. Morgan struggled, but his one hand was clamped so firmly over her knees that she wasn’t going anywhere that Alasdair didn’t want her to go.
Her mouth went dry.
“Of all the fool things to be doing, I never would have imagined the likes of you to have so little sense as this!” he raged. “And what manner of foul kingdom is it you have that the common folk show no respect for a queen within their own filthy ranks?”
Alasdair stalked down a shadowed street, and Morgan was surprised to note that it didn’t look so bad on closer inspection. Within moments, they emerged onto a brightly lit and very busy thoroughfare.
“Never have I seen the like of it, though the fault is as much yours as theirs. Did Justine not warn you to not walk alone on these streets? What manner of queen employs advisors, then ignores their counsel?”
Morgan was embarrassed and annoyed to realize how close she had been to comparative safety. Alasdair rounded the corner and strode into a throng of people who eyed them with curiosity.
She wriggled, to no discernible effect. “Um, you can put me down now.”
But Alasdair showed no signs of setting Morgan on her feet. She wasn’t even sure he’d heard her.
“Mere lads they were! Not more than thirteen summers!” His disgust was evident. “What manner of town is it that a boy can find himself such trouble? Where are their sires and their mothers? Have they not decent work to pursue, rather than thieving from women?”
Morgan struggled, not trusting the way her skin heated everywhere she touched
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