Heart of Gold by May McGoldrick Page B

spotted a figure traveling against the tide. For an instant their eyes locked. Then she looked hurriedly away and disappeared into the surging throng.
    The Scottish warrior leaped into the alleyway, pushing across the current till he reached the other side. Far off, he saw the large, floppy hat ducking along the edge of the path, and he quickened his long strides, cutting the distance between them in no time.
    Rounding a bend, Ambrose saw her throw an anxious look over her shoulder, but he had nearly caught up to her. So with a quick lunge, the Highlander grabbed the shoulder of his scurrying quarry. Elizabeth pulled hard against his grip, trying to free herself, but the Scottish knight was not about to let her go.
    Pulling her with him, Ambrose backed into a small gap between two tents.
    “Let me go!” Elizabeth struggled against him, but he only tightened his hold on her.
    “Nay! I’ll not let you go. Not until you tell me who it is that you are running away from.”
    “That’s my business, not yours.” She looked up just in time to see a mixture of sadness and anger flicker across his face as he studied the wound on her cheek. She could feel the heat of his gaze wash over her skin.
    “Who did this to you?”
    Elizabeth felt the viselike grip of his fingers dig into her shoulders. She could hear the strong note of anguish in his voice. Then she turned her head, hiding the ugly gash from his stare. “It doesn’t matter. Please let me go.”
    “I won’t!”
    Ambrose’s fingers gently moved up from her shoulders and framed her face. He turned her head until their eyes met. He felt the tremble that coursed through her. “You’re frightened.”
    Elizabeth shook her head, trying to deny it. But the welling up of tears in her eyes spoke the truth.
    “Seeing what he’s done to you...I can understand why. You are freightened. Tell me who it is. Let me help you, Elizabeth. Let me protect you.”
    She felt the caress of his thumb against her skin. Protect you. The words drifted about her in a haze of emotion. Her skin was burning at his touch, and she felt the heat shoot downward until it washed over her heart.
    She fought to keep her mind clear. What was it about this man that gave him the power to wash away all the troubles that surrounded her, all the tribulations that were, right now, threatening her very life? “I’m marked forever.”
    She didn’t know why she spoke those words. It was not like her. But Ambrose’s attention made her feel vulnerable. Exposed. She did not have to look at herself to know what her wound must look like to a man. He had to be appalled, disgusted. After all, women were to be pleasing to the eye. And clearly, she was not. No, she would never be.
    “We are a perfect match.” He reached down and took hold of her fingers, raising them to his own forehead.
    Elizabeth let her hands trace lightly over the scar.
    “You are beautiful, Elizabeth.” Ambrose reached up and pulled the cap off her head. His jaw dropped. “The devil...what have you done to yourself?”
    “My lacerated face you find beautiful, but my shorn hair you do not?” she challenged.
    “The first, I know, is the result of some brute’s vicious act. But the second...this must be self-inflicted.” Giving in to his impulse, he ran his hands through her short tresses. He actually liked the feel of them.
    She shook off of his unrestrained touch with the backs of her hands. “Why do you do this if you find it so unattractive?”
    “Who says I find it unattractive?” Ambrose’s eyes fell on her full lips. “My problem is I find everything about you absolutely fascinating.”
    She did not have to follow his gaze to know that he had every intention of kissing her. And that he did. Thoroughly.
    All Elizabeth wanted to do was yield to him. And that she did. Utterly.
    She parted her lips as his tongue swept inside. The sound of the men and women rushing by, the roar of the fire in the distance, even the imminent danger of