Highlander Most Wanted Page 0,62

escape him to no avail. Not again. Never again. His was a face burned into her memory along with Ian’s. If only she’d seen him in battle the day she’d sent an arrow through Patrick McHugh’s neck. She would have surely killed him and not felt a moment’s remorse.

He’d held her down while Ian had slashed open her cheek. He’d held her down while Ian had raped her, her blood smearing them both. And then he’d taken his own turn, forcing himself upon her repeatedly.

She closed her eyes and tried again to scream, but Corwen flipped her over and smashed his mouth to hers in a brutal kiss. ’Twas not a kiss. A kiss was something wonderful. Romantic. Something exchanged by two lovers. Playful. Passionate. But not punishing. Nay, this was not a kiss. It was something horrible and evil.

She bit into his tongue and was rewarded with another fist to her face. Her vision blurred and she shook her head, trying to clear the fuzz from her mind. Pain rocketed through her, and she was dimly aware of him tearing at the bodice of her dress.

Shock held her immobile. This couldn’t be happening.

Was she never to be safe from the unwanted advances of men? Was she forever consigned to rape, and to men taking from her what they pleased, damn the damage done to her in the process?

How much more could she take? Her face, her body, her very soul had been ripped from her. Nothing was her own any longer. She’d become someone else, Genevieve McInnis dying, and in her stead a woman Genevieve hardly knew anymore.

No.

No!

The word screamed through her mind. Stuttered hoarsely past swollen, cracked lips. It echoed over and over until it became a litany. A denial that this could be happening.

Rough hands underneath her skirts. Painful between her legs. He grunted in satisfaction when he managed to rip most of her dress from her body. But her cape remained intact, spread wide as he tore her dress, baring her body to his view.

Coldness swept over her. A frightening numbness took hold. Acceptance that this was happening and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Just like so many times before.

Something inside her turned off. Darkness crept in, a soothing balm to the fear and rage that blew through her. She could no longer feel his hands upon her. She couldn’t feel anything at all.

Hatred and bleak realization were all she knew.

An ungodly roar sounded. It was unlike anything Genevieve had ever heard before. A moment later, Corwen was ripped from her body, and thrown a good distance.

With casual indifference, she watched him sail through the air and hit the ground with a thud that she felt as much as heard.

And then Bowen’s voice, anxious and worried.

“Genevieve! Are you all right?”

CHAPTER 24

Bowen hovered anxiously over Genevieve, rage and worry blowing like a wildfire through his veins. She focused her stare on him, but it was a dead, lifeless stare, as if she had no awareness of her surroundings.

“Speak to me, Genevieve,” he urged.

He was afraid to touch her for fear of hurting her. Blood trickled from her mouth. ’Twas obvious the bastard had dealt her at least one blow, but who knew how many more or what the extent of her injuries were?

He had been in time to prevent her from being raped, but the lass was still deeply traumatized.

“I’m all right,” she said faintly.

It was enough to make him rise and turn his attention to the McHugh warrior, who lay on the ground a few feet away. Fresh anger smoldered within him. He was seething with fury that this man would dare to abuse Genevieve.

The warrior attempted to scramble to his feet, but Bowen leveled him, knocking him flat upon his back again. Bowen’s chest protested, his wound fiery with pain, but he paid it no heed. His sole intent was to remove this man as a threat to Genevieve forever.

The warrior threw a punch in an effort to dislodge Bowen, but he was solidly pinned to the ground. Bowen doubled his fist and rammed it into the other man’s face, and then before the warrior could respond, Bowen grasped the McHugh man’s head and gave it a great yank, effectively breaking his neck in one swift motion.

’Twas the truth he’d rather make the bastard suffer, but his focus was on ending things quickly so he could attend to Genevieve.

Bowen dropped the warrior’s head and it lolled to the side, his eyes glassy