To Avenge Her Highland Warrior (Highland Fae Chronicles Book 3) by Samantha Holt Page B

been meek in yer life.”
    She heard his amused tone. Nay, she had not. Growing up with strong men taught her to stand her ground and she would certainly never be chattel to another man again. And he would know that if he remembered her.
    “Will ye eat?”
    “Aye, in a moment.”
    He drew back. She missed the warmth of him and felt the walls rise between them once more. A chill wrapped around her like an icy mantle. She sucked in a breath and forced her own defences back in place.
    Logan pushed to standing. His jaw twitched, his hands curled at his sides, and he eyed her for several moments. Inside, her mind screamed at her to beg him to come back to her, to hold her again. Grief and frustration threatened to force its way through the boulders surrounding her heart. It seeped into the cracks but she held firm and stared him out.
    “Shall I leave ye to eat then?” he asked softly.
    “Aye,” she whispered, unable to give anything other than her usual proud response with her chin lifted.
    Hands lifted in surrender, he shook his head. “Fine.” He rolled his eyes and took the steps two at a time. She watched his legs disappear and waited for the inevitable slam of the door but it never came. The lock of the door rattled, a curse sounded and eventually more footsteps. She drew in a breath and held it when he paced back down the steps and stopped in front of her.
    “We’re locked in.”
    “Dinnae be foolish,” she spluttered and stumbled to her feet. The thought of being locked in a room with this man sent a tumult of emotions through her. She did not even want to think about the reigning emotion—desire. “The servants know I’m down here.”
    “’Tis locked. Some damned fool has locked it for the night.”
    “Can ye no’ push it open?”
    A dark brow rose. “This was yer keep once, was it not? Ye should know how thick those doors are.”
    Lorna dropped back against the table. Aye, she knew well. The thick oak was intended to repel invasion. “We could shout?” she suggested quietly.
    “None shall hear.”
    She sighed. No one would be along until the morning. The kitchens were entered from the outside and were down in the lowest part of the castle. Likely most of the household had already taken to their bed. Once being in a small space with Logan would have excited her though she always feared him—but previously that had been for the sake of self preservation. If she didn’t get close to a man, one could never harm her again.
    Now trepidation remained locked in her chest. She did not know how he would behave toward her from one moment to the next. Would he kiss her or shout at her? Manhandle her or offer some charitable sentiment?
    “I suppose we are trapped here then.”
    He nodded. “For the night, aye.”
    Ignoring the darkness of his expression, she drew out a chair and sat. Lorna tugged over the tray and picked up the chunk of coarse bread. “Are ye intending to stand there for the rest of the evening?” she asked without looking at him.
    Viciously tearing apart the bread, she stuffed a piece into her mouth. It was stale but her stomach grumbled in appreciation. She ate quickly, avoiding his gaze as he settled onto a chair and propped his feet on the table. Lorna rolled her eyes at the sight of his muddy boots.
    “Yer traipsing mud everywhere.”
    Logan slid his feet from the table and leaned forward to place his elbows on the table. “If we are to be trapped together all eve, would it no’ make sense for us to try to be civil?”
    “I am no’ the one being uncivil.”
    “Ye can hardly claim to be behaving like a lady.”
    Lorna bit back an even more unladylike response. Why did he rile her so? Was it simply his refusal to believe her or the vast change in him? Logan had always worked under her skin. Always. Her attraction to him plagued her as much as her need for him as a friend. He’d been her most trusted warrior and the closest thing to a friend she’d ever had. But never had he drawn