Highland Warrior (Campbell Trilogy #1)(5)
His mouth lifted at one corner. “I might just do that. It’s not very often that a man happens upon a half-naked wood nymph climbing a tree.”
Caitrina’s cheeks flamed. “I’m not half-naked, and if you could spare a glance upward”—away from my chest—“you would see that I’m not climbing, but stuck and in need of some assistance.”
Her blustery response seemed only to increase his amusement. Though he wasn’t precisely smiling, his steely blue eyes twinkled as radiantly as the shards of sunlight streaming through the trees.
The wretched brute was laughing at her.
Caitrina narrowed her gaze, not used to being laughed at—particularly by a man. She supposed there was something amusing about the entire situation, but he should have the courtesy not to show it. It left her feeling at a distinct disadvantage, which was silly given her circumstances. She was at a disadvantage. But not for long. When he got her down from here, she would give him a piece of her mind.
She bristled and in her most haughty voice—the one she used with her brothers when she wanted them to do something—said, “Just hurry up and help me down . . . now!”
She realized immediately that issuing demands might not have been the best tactic when the smile that had temporarily lightened his hard expression vanished and his lips thinned into a straight line. He gave her a long stare, then crossed his arms over his broad chest. Her breath caught, confronted with the impressive bulge of muscle. Good gracious, he was strong.
“No,” he said lazily. “I don’t think I shall.”
Chapter 2
Caitrina gasped, more shocked than angry—at first. “No? You can’t say no.”
He lifted a brow, begging to differ.
“But why not?” she sputtered inanely, finding it impossible to comprehend a refusal.
His gaze slid over her body. “I’m rather enjoying the view from here.”
“How dare you!” She gave him a withering stare, which was easier said than done from her position. “You are a vile man.”
The smile that curved his mouth sent a shiver running through her. “If I were in your position, I think I’d be praying that you were wrong about that.”
She ignored the warning. “But I will fall,” she protested.
He eyed the distance from her feet to the ground. “I wouldn’t advise it.”
“You can’t be serious.” Caitrina was at a loss—never having encountered a situation like this. In truth, she wasn’t used to being told no—particularly by men. Was he in earnest or merely toying with her? His expression was infuriatingly unreadable.
She’d gone about this all wrong. But he’d irritated her with his amusement at her predicament and his bold appraisal of her body. Taking a deep breath, she forced a broad, playful smile to her face and batted her lashes for good measure. “For a moment I thought you were serious, but I know a gallant knight such as yourself would never refuse a lady in peril.”
Gallant knight, ha! He wasn’t likely to be confused with a knight in shining armor anytime soon.
He arched a brow. It was obvious he knew exactly what she was up to. He gave her another long, penetrating look, one that she felt all the way to her toes. “Perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement.”
Something in his voice caused the hair to prickle at the back of her neck. “What sort of arrangement?”
“I believe it is customary in such situations to offer a boon.” Their eyes met, and she could see the unspoken challenge in his gaze. “A kiss, perhaps?”
Her eyes widened. Of all the arrogant . . . Outrage coursed through her body, but somehow she held her temper in check. “I believe it is customary in such situations for a gentleman to offer to help a woman without condition.”
He turned back to his horse, gathered the reins, and started to lead it away. “Suit yourself.”
She gaped at his retreating back. “Where are you going? You can’t just leave me here.”
He turned and gave an infuriating lift of his brow. He didn’t need to say anything, the gesture said it all: He could indeed.
The branch under her feet cracked and sagged a few more inches. He might have made a movement toward her, but she couldn’t be sure. Her arms had begun to ache from the strain of supporting most of her weight; she didn’t know how much longer she could hold on. Her face was hot with anger and indignation. She would argue with him later. “Very well. Just get me down.”
He gave a mocking bow. “As you wish, my lady.”
For such a tall, muscular man, he negotiated the branches of the tree with surprising agility and speed, stopping a few branches below the weakened branch that was partially supporting her. In the span of only a few seconds, his hands circled her waist. She sucked in her breath at the unfamiliar sensation. His hands were big and strong, and she was acutely aware of his thumbs positioned under her br**sts.
Their eyes met. Shock reverberated through her. Up close, he was even more handsome that she’d realized: piercing slate blue eyes, dark brown hair that in the sunlight contained hints of the red it had probably been in his youth, a wide mouth, and a hard, square jaw. It was a harshly masculine face, but also an incredibly attractive one. Given his abominable behavior, it shouldn’t affect her, but she found herself flushing nonetheless. Though his expression betrayed nothing, somehow she knew that he was not as indifferent as he seemed.