your kindness in the form of food.” She tossed th e pouch back at him and Duncan seized it in midair.
He caught her off guard when he threw it back.
Not expecting him to do that, she missed it completely, and it hit her just above her left breast with a dull thud.
“Ouch!”
She looked at him sharply, gripping the pouch where it had fallen in her lap. It hadn’t really hurt, but it had surprised her enough that her pride was injured.
He was trying not to laugh. “I didna mean to hit ye with it.”
She flung it back toward his head. “Well, ye did.”
Duncan ducked, reaching up and catching the pouch where his head had been.
Heather was sorry to have missed. How good it would have felt for the pouch to hit him square in the forehead. To leave a red imprint that would have eventually turned into a bruise.
Duncan held out the pouch between them. “Truce?”
“Does that mean ye will let me go?” she asked with a raised brow and a sarcastic smile.
He shook his head, sadness entering his eyes that she’d not seen before. “Not this time.”
This time … As if there would be another time?
“Well , I’ll not have ye fattening me up with your almonds just so I’m juicier to those monsters that’d eat me whole.” Heather crossed her arms over her chest, letting her eyes drift around the small alcove.
Bravado kept her from cracking, though on the inside she felt herself starting to break. Lord, she had been naïve to have thought this could go her way at all.
Likely they wouldn’t be here long. She could risk jumping through the falls and into the water. There was no tell ing how deep it was, but she could swim, and that might give her a head start in escaping, even if he jumped in behind her. She frowned. There was one major issue with that escape plan—she was still wearing multiple layers. The fabric would swiftly wick up the water and weigh her down. She’d be lucky to move her limbs at all before she drowned.
Jumping through the falls wasn’t going to work. Anything having to do with water needed to be crossed off her list. Unless…
Unless she knocked him into the falls. She’d have plenty of time to run with him sputtering in the water, his robes filled with moisture.
“What plan are ye con cocting now?” Duncan asked.
Heather jerked her gaze toward him. Why did he have to be so darn handsome? He leaned against the wall, one leg stretched out and the other bent at the knee, an arm resting on it, the dreaded pouch of almonds dangling from his long, masculine fingers.
“What?” she asked.
“I asked ye what ye were scheming about in your mind. Ye disappeared for a few minutes, staring into the water.”
Heather shook her head and waved away his accusations. “I wasn’t scheming anything, ye—” She stopped herself from name-calling, in case he made good on one of his threats to spank her or tie her up. “I was simply lost in memory…” She made a point of trailing off, as though the memory were something sweet she’d savor. Knocking Duncan through the falls would definitely be a memory she would savor as soon as she got the deed done.
Hopping to her feet, Heather swiped at her skirts, brushing off the bits of leaves and dust that had gathered from sitting on the cavern floor. “Shall we be on our way?”
Duncan looked up at her with his eyes narrowed. He roved over her form in a way that made her blush and bluster. She crossed her arms over her chest , wishing he wouldn’t look at her like that.
“Well?” she asked, not bothering to hide the annoyance in her tone.
“Why the sudden hurry?” The infuriating man pulled the strings on the pouch and dumped a few almonds into his palm.
The nuts looked good. Fresh. He popped them into his mouth and star ed at her, waiting for her reply.
“Why the sudden need to relax? Thus far ye’ve had urgency on your side.”
Duncan chuckled, a low grumble in his chest that gave her gooseflesh and set her nerves afire with the need
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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Brenda Sinclair
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