Not Without Juliet - By L.L. Muir Page 0,63

just lie there and let her believe him dead? She didn't know yet that Bond was an agent. She would fight him. And how would she react when she thought she had sent Quinn to his death?

He couldn't stand it another second. He had to stand up and fight their way out. Use the fall back plan. Bash, fight, and run.

A boot came down hard on his back.

"Here, wife. Come. There is no reason for you to pretend. Tell Laird Gordon I'm your rightful husband."

He felt her coming, heard her slow steps, how she choked back a sob.

"I'll kill you for this," she whispered. "You've just removed any leverage you might have had over me. I would have done anything to have him spared. Anything. Now you’re the dead man."

There was only silence while his heart beat loud in his ears. He couldn’t help but be touched by the passion in her voice and be thrilled that her feelings for him might equal his for her. The pressure on his back never let up and he was lucky it didn’t. He needed the reminder to keep his breathing slow in spite of his urge to shout for joy.

When Juliet spoke again, her voice had changed.

"Forgive me, Laird Gordon. We'll get out of your way now. I'm sorry we bothered you with our personal problems. Come, husband. We really don't need witnesses." Her voice was sticky sweet. Her accent wasn’t pretty.

"Hold a moment, Lady Bond,” the agent said. “We'll go when I'm ready. Laird Gordon, allow me to return Laird Ross to his cousin. Ewan will wish to seal him in the tomb with his sister witch. Ye can hardly wish to have the likes of him haunting yer home."

There was a drawn out silence. The only thing Quinn heard was the sound of the crowd’s breathing.

“Why would ye do such a thing, Bond James? Do ye not believe the more pressing need is to meet out the woman’s punishment and set yer house to rights? Perhaps there is something ye mean to hide from me?”

The agent laughed. “Nothing to hide. Ye’ve been right generous with me. I’ll be the same. ‘Tis the truth, Ewan Ross has something I need. I mean to trade the body of Montgomery Ross for it. I also meant what I said about Laird Ross’s ghost. It is only my opinion that a man’s ghost will likely be more bothersome than that of a woman, but I might be mistaken. Perhaps ye have a priest about who might have better advice?”

In the silence that followed, Monty could imagine dry wood being added around the pole in the outer bailey. If his enemy remained unmoved, how in the bloody hell was he going to escape that?

“Devil take ye,” Gordon snarled. "Away with ye, then. Take Montgomery Ross. And someone clean his blood from my hall. I won’t have him coming back for it on Samhain!"

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"Juliet Ross, brace yerself," the redhead whispered in her ear.

She was seated on his horse, basically in his lap, while Quinn's body was strapped over the horse her supposed husband had brought along for her. The head and arms of her supposed lover hung down the side nearest them. She tried not to stare at the large bloodstain on the rough sack cloth in which they’d wrapped the body.

"Quinn's not dead," the man behind her said carefully.

"Just what is your name?” she blurted. “I can't keep thinking of you as Gabby's hitman."

He didn't answer, so she turned to look at his face. It was located a bit higher than expected, so she tipped her head back. His mouth was hanging open.

"Your name?"

"James, actually. Did you not hear what I said?"

She faced forward. "Yes. I know."

"You know?" Quinn’s words were muffled, but intelligible just the same. His carcass didn't move. The hands still hung limp.

"You're doing a fine job, Quinn. You still look dead." She knew if she was the one who had to play dead for miles and miles, she’d appreciate a little encouragement.

James gave a rude laugh. She decided to ignore him.

"How did you know?" came Quinn’s voice again.

"I’m not an idiot,” she said. “I figured it out while I was still in the dungeon."

"You did not," whispered James.

Jules shrugged. "You'd be amazed how much clearer things seem in the dark."

"Bull. Shite."

His breath on her ear made her shiver.

She shook her head and gave him a frown. “That tickles my ear.”

“What?” Quinn demanded. If he wasn’t careful, their distant escort might