Haley rubbed her side, playing up her injury. “I think I need a doctor.” Maybe that would scare him into freeing her.
Standing completely still, he simply stared, scrutinizing her.
“I won't let you have it.” she finally stated baldly.
“I take whatever I want, you wee hellcat.” He roved his eyes over her, giving his words a double meaning.
A shiver ran up her spine.
“It was my discovery,” she replied quickly. “It's mine you know. The weapon is mine.”
“I know you've no weapon. Unless you've hidden it.” Before she could dodge him, MacColla grabbed her close, reaching around and patting her on the rump to frisk her.
She let out a sharp squeal and watched as the light drained from MacColla's eyes. He abruptly let her go.
“Och.” A hiss of breath escaped him as he visibly gathered himself. “Stop with the games, lass.”
His voice grew stern. “Campbell is at our backs and I need to get Jean to safety.”
She glowered. This business about Campbell again.
“Is Robert the Bruce after us too?”
“Would that it were so,” he countered with a sudden laugh. “Now, if I have the right of it, Jean's safety is your safety. So if you've a mind to your own hide, you'll get back up on that pony and ride.”
She stared, speechless. She was going to get the hell away from them as soon as she could, of that she had no doubt.
Ride. The thought of more riding filled her with a dread so vast it felt like a physical weight in her belly.
She must've made some face, because he let out a low chuckle.
Before Haley could give him what for, MacColla surprised her by asking, “What's your name, lass?”
He was the one who'd taken her - wouldn't he know that already?
“Haley… ” she hesitated.
“I see your pain, Haley.” His tone was unnervingly gentle, his voice slowing to pronounce her name with care. “You need your wind back. If you're to ride anymore this day, we'll need to bind you.”
“But didn't you just say we had to get out of here?”
“Aye.” he smiled and cocked a brow, “I ken what I said. 'Twill take but a moment. I've no doctor at my disposal, but I myself have bound many a man.”
“I'll just bet you have,” she said under her breath, and he surprised her once more with a laugh.
“But,” he added gravely, “I 'll have your word you'll not try to claw me while I do so, my wee caile bhorb.”
The peculiar nickname caught her off guard. A wee what girl? Fierce?
A wry smile cocked her lips before she could give it a thought. Her, a wee savage. A wisp of a laugh esc aped her nostrils. Wouldn't her brothers have loved that one?
“I won't claw you,” she said grudgingly, thinking what a relief it would be to have her ribs bound.
Skeptical, he raised his brows, questioning.
“You have my word.” She was growing impatient with these suddenly amiable efforts. Who did he think he was to kidnap her, then think to bust out the burly charms? “Just get on with it, okay?”
He looked at her quizzically. Just when she thought he didn't understand what she said, the man unsheathed his dirk and, biting it between his teeth, proceeded to unbuckle, take off his belt, loosen his tartan, and drop the entire heavy swath of wool into a puddle on the ground. All he wore was an enormous shirt that reached to the middle of his thighs.