Charming the Chieftain Read Free Page B

the tension in her shoulders and she relaxed the rigid hold she maintained on her skirt. She didn’t know what to think, except acknowledge him to be quite unlike the men who kept company with her father. But who this man was to her aunt, she’d no idea. She also realized he never answered her previous question.
    “Might I assume you are one of the Maxwell chieftain’s personal guards?”
    A slight hesitation in his step made her wonder if he hid the truth. Suspicious, she eyed him. She’d had quite enough of deception and intrigue to last her ten lifetimes. If she couldn’t trust his word, then she doubted she could trust his chief.
    “Why do you believe Aeden is a ranked warrior, milady?”
    The voice came from behind her; she whirled about in fear and stumbled backwards against the warm chest of the chief’s guard. Grateful for his solid presence, she grabbed a handful of his rough linen shirt.
    “’Tis all right milady, he’s with me.” Gently, her defender wrested his shirt from her fisted hands.
    Once she gained control of her breath, she scolded the flaxen-haired man.
    “You put the heart across me! Who are you and why do you lurk about in the bushes?”
    “My men do no’ lurk, milady,” her protector corrected, a smile in his voice.
    Her eyes narrowed at her guard’s stress of her title. “Fine then, he’s not a lurker.”
    Elisande straightened her spine and continued to question the blonde man. “Why did you conceal your presence then?”
    She glanced over at her protector, a smug smile pasted on her face daring him to take exception with her choice of words. Then, all at once, she became struck by his statement. Mouth agape, she pivoted on her heal and peered into his face.
    “Did you just say, ‘your’ men? What do you mean, ‘
your
men’?”
    Her reaction amused him enough to drawl. “Aye, Ronan is my first-in-command.”
    She clamped her jaw tight and blew out an aggravated puff of air through her nose.
    His face split into a genuine grin. “We’re far enough away now, if you desire to meet any private needs.”
    Her mouth pressed into a thin line and she frowned at his indelicate attempt to change the topic.
    “You might have seen fit to tell me that you are, indeed, the Maxwell chieftain.”
    He rubbed at his eye. “When might I have corrected your assumption? Afore, or, after you left your teeth marks on my hand … milady?”

Chapter Three
    A vein pulsed in her temple as discomfiture veered sharply to anger. Unfazed by her glower, he proceeded to exchange information with his first-in-command. To keep her hands from around his throat, she gathered a handful of skirt and shook out the creases as best she could.
    “Do no’ concern yourself with your clothes. You will no’ be wearing them much longer, milady.”
    Nerves stretched, his endless mocking of her title proved the last straw. Before she thought better of it, she stomped over to the two men and aimed her scowl at Chief Maxwell.
    “Cease abusing my title. Your tone is disrespectful and … and this childish behavior quite beneath your position.”
    “As you wish,” he intoned in a flat voice.
    “Is it your aim to keep me wrong-footed?” She accused, her eyes daring him to gainsay her.
    When she failed to procure a reaction, she tried a more direct approach. “Chief Maxwell, I do not understand the reason for this continued — oh!”
    An unexpected nudge between her shoulder blades propelled her forward. Immediately, the chief’s arms enveloped her waist and he plucked her off her feet out of harm’s way. She angled her head around to see Ronan, now atop his large, gray horse.
    “Well, really. Are you trying to frighten the life out of me?”
    “I beg your pardon, milady. Thornton has a mind of his own.”
    “Ronan — ”
    Even she understood the couched warning in the Maxwell’s tone. Suddenly deflated, she sagged against him.
    “Come, sit, you look ready to collapse,” he announced and motioned her