Not Without Juliet - By L.L. Muir Page 0,56

stick out like a sore thumb?"

She lifted her chin. "I really don't know what you’re talking about.” She was feeling very Scarlet O’Hara at the moment. Maybe all women felt that way when men were fighting over them, but since it was yet another experience that was new to her, she could only guess.

McKiller’s face turned a shade of red that clashed with his hair, and he lowered his head like a bull getting ready to charge. She couldn’t fight her instincts on this one and took a step back.

"Laird Gordon,” the man’s voice boomed through the room that was slowly filling with an audience. “Clearly, someone among you has seduced my woman away from me. Who is it? Who of yer clan has shared private speech with my wife? I demand satisfaction."

As it happened, McKiller towered head and shoulders over just about everyone in the castle. Quinn Ross was the only man she’d seen in the last two days who might come close. That big mane of red hair made him look like the king of the lions demanding his dinner, and she’d be damned if every Gordon clansmen didn't take a half-step back too. Their laird called a man to him who leaned close to have a private conversation, clearly not interested in whether the lion got fed or not.

But what was McKiller trying to do? Get someone to fight him? No one knew her there. And no one in their right mind would want to fight the guy for her. Was he hoping Laird Gordon would give her over because no one had the guts to oppose him?

Damn it! She was not going to leave with him!

She put her hands on her hips. “You want someone to fight for me, is that it, Bond?”

He and the old man both looked at her like she was no more than a fly buzzing around their heads. The latter went back to his conversation. McKiller went back to puffing out his chest and glaring at anyone who didn’t look away fast enough.

She decided she needed to make herself look a little more significant, so she marched over to a young kid and pushed him off his stool, then she climbed up on it.

“Can you hear me better now?” she hollered.

McKiller rolled his eyes. Laird Gordon looked at her like she’d sprouted an extra nose and he couldn’t see it as clearly as he’d like. When the guy Gordon had been conversing with finally turned to look at her, he gasped. Gordon shoved him away with disgust.

“If anybody’s going to fight for me,” she paused for dramatic effect. “It’s going to be me!”

Some laughed along with McKiller. Most sighed and turned away from her like they were disappointed she hadn’t done or said something more exciting. Gordon turned slightly to say something to her so-called husband, but she had the feeling his was the only attention she had.

Well, if they wanted excitement, they were going to get it.

She hopped off the stool and grabbed a tankard out of a man’s hand. Then she spun around and lent a little momentum to the most important pitch of her life. She had hoped to catch McKiller off guard, but he deflected the heavy cup. When it flew to the right and dinged Laird Gordon on the head, she suspected he’d done it on purpose.

Fifty people gasped before the tankard stopped spinning on the floor.

She tried bravado first.

“Softball pitcher. High school.”

Bond just grinned.

She tried defense.

“I told you I was going to fight for myself.”

Laird Gordon stood up. His head was so red she was worried it would explode and McKiller would grab her and flee in the confusion.

She tried distraction. She was good at distraction.

“Come on, Bond. Let’s see what you’ve got. Let’s say if I can knock you to the ground, just once, you have to go away and leave me alone.”

The big man turned to the laird. “You see? She clearly protects someone. I demand to ken the man’s name.”

Well, something worked; Gordon sat back down.

"Who is it, woman?” the old man asked. “One of me sons?" His eyes sparkled. He had sons that he hadn’t killed yet? And so many he could afford to lose one in a fight with McKiller?

Jules shook her head in disgust. “No. The only one of your sons that I’ve spent any time with...is the one in your dungeon.”

Someone roared, but it wasn’t Laird Gordon. It was someone standing behind her. She ducked sideways, expecting to