deny it,” he said. “If I wanted to flee, I’d have done so by now.”
She scoffed at him. Clearly she didn’t believe him capable. And that chafed at his pride.
Nonetheless, he told her calmly, “Hear me well, m’lady. I want peace as much as ye do.” He had no wish to see how Morgan’s diminished forces would fare against the knights of Rivenloch.
“Why should I believe you?”
Bloody hell. There had been several times he could have seized the advantage. As secure as she thought this bedchamber was, he’d already glimpsed numerous avenues of escape.
He could have taken a hostage—Ian or that woman who’d seen to his hurts.
He could have tricked Rauve out of his weapon.
He could have convinced lovesick Isabel to help him flee.
It was only honor and reason that kept him prisoner here. Did she not know that?
“Ye still don’t trust me?” he asked.
“Give me one good reason to trust you.”
His mouth fell open. He’d saved the ungrateful lass from a pack of wolves. Yet she had the audacity to question him?
The cool, superior, irritating shimmer of doubt in her eyes pushed him over the edge. Trust him? He’d give her reason to trust him.
Without warning, he used his left hand to upend the platter, spilling its contents off the end of the bed with a crash.
While she gasped in surprise, he snatched the wine bottle from her with his right hand.
Wrapping the fingers of his left hand around her neck, he shoved her down onto the bed. Then he broke the bottle against the bedpost, holding the jagged edge against her throat.
“Now do ye trust me? Ye see, if I actually wished to escape, I could do it in the wink of an—” He strangled on the last word as he suddenly felt her fist clench like an iron vise around his ballocks.
Chapter 11
Hallie had acted on instinct. He’d moved so fast, she’d had no time to think. But she’d been trained in defense from the time she was a wee lass. Even without a weapon, she was never defenseless.
Her action had its intended effect.
His eyes were no longer drilling into hers with triumph and dark threat.
He stiffened. His gaze widened. He gulped.
“Checkmate,” she whispered.
At an impasse, neither of them dared move for fear of inflicting damage. Their breathing was shallow as their eyes locked, each waiting for the other to flinch.
But they were evenly matched. Equally vulnerable. And while they engaged in that close and silent battle, something began to change.
Hallie grew painfully aware of just where her hand was nestled. And as the taut moment dragged on, her intimate assault began doing curious things to his eyes…and her senses.
Smoldering within his tense stare was a glimmer of desire. A spark of lust. A flame of longing.
Her nostrils flared. No one had ever looked at her with such fire. For a lingering moment, she felt his heated gaze penetrate her icy shell, thawing her bones. Melting her heart. Touching her in her most secret places.
It was foreign and frightening.
And for one terrible instant, she feared she might succumb to the flames. Sink into the dangerous depths of his eyes. Maybe even surrender to the powerful urge to press her lips to his warm and tempting mouth.
And then Ian cried out again, breaking the fragile thread of desire.
“Colban!”
Slowly, carefully, Colban removed the shard from her throat and tossed it aside. Just as cautiously, she released his ballocks.
When they had both retreated to their respective sides, he mumbled, “I don’t think that love potion is workin’.”
Hallie wasn’t so sure. She had the pounding heart and trembling limbs to prove it. And she blushed to think where she’d just been touching him.
But Colban had made his point. Though thus far he’d been polite and obliging, there was a serious and deadly side to him. He could be ruthless, clever, and capable when he had to be.
If he was civil, it was because he’d chosen to be civil.
She could trust him.
“Col! Ban!” Ian’s voice was thin with frustration.
Still shaken from their encounter, Hallie crossed her arms defensively and nodded toward the window. “Go on. See what he wants ere he summons the whole clan.”
Colban nodded. But he seemed likewise uneasy as he picked his way around remnants of spilled food to the window.
He peered down. “What is it, lad?”
“Watch!” Ian called up.
Her little brother was always hungry for an audience. Whether it was to see his inventions or listen to his theories, to examine his drawings or hear his verse, Ian