Highland Flame (Highland Brides) by Lois Greiman Page A

that?"
    "None atall. Yet."
    "Then shut yer mouth, lad, before I shut it for ye. The lass has enough worries without ye adding yer wild tales "
    "Afraid I'll tell her the truth?"
    “Tell her anything ye wish, wee one, just dunna make me do something I'll regret."
    "Such as?"
    "Ripping yer tongue from yer head."
    Roderic forced a laugh but kept his weight carefully balanced lest the huge warrior charge him. "I see I've got ye scairt, Wolfhound. But what of? Of losing her? I've seen the way ye watch her. Mayhap ye think of her as yer own and fear I'll horn in?"
    Troy tightened his huge hands into fists, but in a moment he loosened them and laughed. "Ye think I'm scairt of yer effects on her, lad? Ye think yerself such a bonny piece that she'll na be able ta keep her wits about her? That ye'11 win her adoration?"
    "Mayhap."
    Troy laughed again. "Well, then, wee one, I'll let her prove ye wrong."
     

Chapter 7
     
    Roderic followed Troy out of the stable and across the drawbridge. In a matter of minutes, they stood upon a verdant, level sward of land just beyond the roiling Gael Burn. The sun was flirting with the clouds, and the air was potent with the essence of spring. Freedom lay just within the curtain of trees not a hundred rods away.
    But Roderic failed to be distracted by any of these things, for Flanna MacGowan was within sight, stealing his breath and igniting his soul with her beauty.
    Her steel gray stallion was cantering in place, a difficult maneuver even for the most powerful beast. It was a marvel to see, like sweet music come alive. Then the canter was halted, and with the suddenness of a cat, the stallion leaped into the air, tucking his forelegs beneath his soaring body. And yet Flame remained steady, and on her face was an expression of sheer joy.
    Roderic remained transfixed.
    "Na man wins the adoration of such a woman." Troy's words were soft. "'Tis a freely given thing. A gift."
    Roderic turned toward the warrior, disturbed by the man's breathy tone. "And do ye own that gift, Wolfhound?"
    Troy didn't answer. Indeed, it seemed as if he were far away and unable to hear Roderic's question, but in a moment he shook himself.
    "She comes," he said in a louder tone. "This be yer chance to enchant her, Forbes."
    Roderic turned to watch her approach. She rode like a windswept fire on a cloud of gray. Her hair was unbound and floated behind in wild disarray. The simple lad's shirt embraced her bosom. A taut bowstring lay snugly between her breasts to meet the oaken bow that she carried at her back. A quiver of arrows hung beside the high pommel of her saddle but did nothing to impede her steed's fluid movements.
    "What is he doing here?" Flame pulled Lochan to a halt and shifted slightly in the saddle as she looked past him to Troy.
    "The wee lad wishes ta win yer adoration."
    "What?" She stiffened.
    Roderic grinned. Damn Troy and all the MacGowan warriors. "I fear yer Wolfhound's imagination runs riot. I but wished ta see ye work the steed." He watched her eyes. They were cool as glass and unnerving, for if the truth were known, he did want her adoration. "'Tis difficult ta believe ye trained him yerself."
    "Because I am a woman?"
    Without looking, Roderic could feel Troy's smile. He damned that man again, then reprimanded himself for his tactless words. He was supposed to be charming, he reminded himself. Roderic the Rogue. "Nay lass, because ye are bonny beyond words. I canna understand how ye have escaped wedlock for so long."
    "Flattery is a weak man's cheap weapon, Forbes."
    "And yers is yer tongue."
    They stared at each other in silence. Roderic grasped the plaid where it crossed his shoulder. He was being very charming, he thought sarcastically. "I didna come to exchange insults with ye, lass," he said softly. "But rather, ta share yer knowledge of the horse."
    The joyous, carefree expression was gone from her face, and Roderic found that he wished more than anything to call it back. "And pray, why would I