Laird of Darkness Read Free Page B

remained impassive, a surly gleam in his dark eyes.
    “I do not wish to be a part of this feud with your brother. ’Tis none of my concern.”
    “Half brother,” he snapped.
    “No matter.”
    “It matters.”
    “Does your mother know of your fighting?”
    “She died six and twenty years ago.” He sent her a glower full of contempt.
    “Pray pardon,” she murmured, staring down at her hands. When had she lost her marsh tea plant? Not that it mattered now. Herbs were the least of her worries. Alana blew out a long breath, wondering if she might appeal to Duncan’s compassionate side…if he had one. “Both my parents are gone, too. My mother passed when I was five, my father last year.” ’Twas unsettling to think she could have something in common with this menacing stranger.
    Silent, Duncan knelt and stirred the coals in the fireplace, adding peat. Very well. He had no compassion then, considering the way he ignored her.
    She tried not to stare at his nude body, but the sight was too compelling, especially his trim hips. She had never imagined such a muscled arse. And his back, narrow at his waist and broadening as it expanded to those powerful shoulders. What would it feel like to run her hands over him? Simply imagining how hard and strong he might feel sent prickles of sensation racing through her body in shocking and illicit ways.
    She forced air into her lungs. Why did he not wear clothing…for her sake, at least?
    He was trying to distract her. To befuddle her like a ninny. But she had to uncover the truth. “You can turn invisible and fly. What are you, a sorcerer?” she asked, forcing herself to stare at the one narrow window in the room rather than his nudity.
    “Silence. You ask too many questions,” he growled and rose to face her.
    “I have a right. You’re holding me prisoner.”
    “You’re not in the dungeon, are you?” he asked in a calmer, seductive voice. She puzzled at his change in tone. Did a threat lie in wait beneath it?
    “Nay.” She could not decipher his expression. He gave no hint as to his concealed and nefarious thoughts. Before she could prevent it, her gaze dropped for one moment to his most masculine part—his cock. Aye, she knew what it was called. Heat scorched her. Though she was a healer and had seen a few men unclothed, none had a cock as sizable as his, even when not roused. And her former lover, a youth not yet grown into a man, was nothing compared to Duncan.
    “Keep up this senseless blathering and you will be in the dungeon afore long,” he muttered. He turned his back to her once again and shook his head.
    Alana bolted for the door, flung it open and was almost out when he grabbed her skirts and yanked her back. His hand shoved violently against the door, slamming it shut.
    He hauled her up against his body. His very naked, hard body. “You wish to be bound, I see.”
    “Nay!” Her pulse thumped in her ears so loudly she could scarce hear.
    “I can grant you that wish.” He dragged her to a chest in the corner, opened it and dug inside. She kicked and banged her elbows against him. But this accomplished naught except bruising her own arms and heels.
    “Ouch!”
    “Be still. You’re hurting yourself.” He withdrew a saffron-colored rope, then tugged her to a straight chair. There he made her sit, and wrapped the rope around her wrists behind her back. The rope was tied loosely, but she couldn’t free herself, though she tried with all her strength.
    “You cannot escape that, so don’t even try,” he warned.
    “What is it, magical?”
    “Aye.” He stopped a couple of feet away, and she found her eyes level with his male parts.
    Mortification stung her skin. “Have you no shame or sense of decency?”
    “Nay, I regret that I do not.” His amusement only spurred her irritation.
    She sent him what she hoped was a spiteful glare. He merely smiled smugly. ’Twas unfortunate that he was out of her reach or she would’ve dented his shin.
    His