Roderick's Purpose - Ellie St. Clair Page 0,5

in the sun, and her full bottom lip was a rosy pink that drew him. He had never been so attracted to a woman at first sight before — and clearly, she recognized it.

Strong, lean legs came up around him where he sat in front of her, and she bit that lower lip as she looked at him. “What will it take to get you to release me?”

He pushed back in disgust at how easily she had ascertained his feeling toward her, and stood abruptly, pulling her with him, her hands now firmly tied in front of her.

“There’s nothing ye can do but come with me,” he said, and she pouted, tilting her head to the side. “Perhaps you can make a deal with the sergeant if you give up the rest of your gang.”

“Never,” she said fiercely, her head held high as he led her to her horse.

“You’ll have to help me up,” she said, holding up her tied hands, and he sighed but did as she asked, cupping his hands together as a step. She put her foot into them, resting her hands on his shoulder, and warmth flooded through him where they touched. She gave a bit of a hop and swung her leg around the horse. He reached to gather the horse’s reins to place them in her hands, but as he did so, the woman gave a “hi-ya!” and squeezed her legs around the horse, who shot forward. The leather reins burned his hands as they slid through and dragged behind her.

“Bloody hell!” he shouted as he ran to his own horse to chase after her.

Chapter 3

Gwen laughed with glee as her horse raced through the wood while the Scot’s curses rang out behind her. She had never been a graceful woman who garnered the attention of respectable gentlemen, but when the man’s attraction to her became obvious, she had used it to secure her release.

If she were being honest with herself, she wasn’t exactly immune to him either. Never in her life had she seen such a handsome man, and a thrill had surged through her body when she lay underneath him. He was powerful, with broad shoulders and thighs of steel that had trapped her in their vise. He was a Highland warrior of old, she mused, reminding her of home, and for a moment, she allowed herself the simple pleasure of appreciating his physique. She quickly snapped back to the reality of the situation, however, for he had been her captor — would be again if he had his way — and she vowed that she would never be under the will of a man.

His own willpower was fairly strong, though; she had to give him credit for that. He had resisted her with an apparent ease, though he had made the mistake of underestimating her and giving her a window of opportunity.

For the past twelve years, she had been following her father and his gang around the countryside of the Northwest Territory, living a nomadic life on the run from the authorities, the blasted police force this man said he was a part of. He didn’t exactly fit the image she had become used to, but why would someone lie about being a member?

He wasn’t, however, the first man she had run from, and her father had taught her well. She sighed as she thought of Doc. He would be so disappointed were she to be captured. He was what spurred her forward, what had caused her to attempt the robbery in the first place. If she was being honest with herself, the only part of thieving she actually enjoyed was the thrill of getting away with it. Actually taking money or valuables from other people — well, that part she had always had difficulties with, yet she had no other way to survive.

She currently hadn’t any other choice but to rob this one last time, and her father was counting on her. She had to make sure she escaped. Gwen heard the thrash of a horse breaking through the brush behind her, and she cursed at the fact her hands were tied and she couldn’t lead her mare as well as she was typically capable of. She urged her on as best she could with her thighs, well-muscled from years of riding from one camp to another, town after town, following her father and the men he had cobbled together over the years. The men he had arrived with originally