The Viper (Highland Guard #4)(79)

He let go, sinking deep inside her one more time with a masculine roar of pure pleasure. Pleasure more raw, intense, and powerful than he’d ever experienced before. His mind went black as wave after wave of sensation exploded inside him. He didn’t think it was ever going to stop.

He came back to consciousness slowly, his heartbeat and breathing a step behind.

Jesus. He didn’t know how he was still standing, let alone holding her up. But he couldn’t seem to let go, not ready to break the connection. Although God knew, it hadn’t been a long one. He grimaced; even as a lad he’d had more control.

He pulled back a little to look into her eyes. They were still hazy with passion and he felt another twitch of pleasure.

“Jesus, Bella, I’m sorry.”

He might have explained, or tried to make it up to her—he’d been serious about his eagerness to taste her with his tongue—but at that moment the hair at the back of his neck stood on end.

He heard a sound behind him.

Lachlan’s exhausted limbs and aching muscles came instantly back to life, as the reflexive heat of battle surged through his veins. Every muscle in his body flared.

Connected as they were, Bella sensed the change immediately. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.

He didn’t have time to explain. They were right behind them. He lowered her to the ground, separating them. “Run,” he ordered, a fierce edge to his voice. “Don’t stop and don’t look back. Just run.”

Her eyes grew wide with fear. He couldn’t look at her, knowing he had to act fast. If they caught her, he didn’t have a chance.

He spun around, pulling up his braies even as he slid one of the swords from the baldric at his back. “Damn it, Bella,” he jerked out his other sword, “run.”

This time she didn’t hesitate. He could hear the sound of her footsteps trailing away behind him as the first men entered the small clearing.

But any hope that she might have gotten away before they’d seen her faded when one of the men yelled. “Hurry, one of them is getting away!”

At least a dozen men on horseback headed off in her direction; the others—at least two times that many—headed for him.

Lachlan let them come.

He fought like a man possessed. One after another of the attackers fell under the skilled edges of his two swords. He blocked with one; sliced, cut, and jabbed with the other. No one could stop him. No one could beat him. He was indestructible. Invincible.

Almost.

But every man had his weakness. And when the men returned, one of whom was holding a wriggling Bella in his arms, a blade to her throat, Lachlan knew he’d found his. He’d thought his weakness was lust. He was wrong. His weakness was Bella.

“Drop your weapons,” the man said with a sneer. “Or the lass dies.”

Lachlan would die before he surrendered. But he would not watch her die.

One by one, his weapons clattered to the ground.

One minute Bella was overcome by emotions, wondering what Lachlan was apologizing for—although it had been over rather quickly, the feel of him driving inside her, filling her, claiming her in a way she’d never imagined, had been incredible. And when he’d made her come apart … she’d never felt anything like that before. The next she’d been captured by a vile group of ruffians and was being led into a guard room in Peebles Castle.

She was terrified. More so because of what had happened when they’d separated her from Lachlan than because she’d been captured again.

He’d managed to whisper something to her right before: “You don’t know me.”

She didn’t even have time to ponder his words. They’d put him in chains and hit him so hard in the head with the hilt of a sword he’d crumpled to the ground like a big, armored poppet of rags.

“Don’t hurt him,” she’d pleaded. Assuming it was her they were after, she added, “I’ll go with you willingly. Just please, don’t hurt him.”

The brute who’d captured her had given her a queer look. “What in Hades’ bowels do I care if you come with us willingly? You’ll come with us to encourage him to talk—willingly or nay.”

Bella barely hid her surprise. Dear God, they didn’t know who she was! It wasn’t she they were after.

Then it must be Lachlan. But what could they want with him?

She didn’t have to wait long to find out. Hands tied behind her back with ropes, she was pushed forward into the small room near the gate of the castle by a man leading her from behind. A few minutes later, Lachlan was tossed in after her. She lunged toward him, but another man grabbed her before she could reach him.

“I don’t think so,” he said, thrusting her onto a wooden bench.

Bella couldn’t tear her eyes from Lachlan. Her heart rose in her throat. There was so much blood. It stained one side of his face and seeped from the big gash at his temple to pool in a puddle beneath his head.

Tears choked in her throat. He was so still. “You’ll kill him if you don’t stop that wound from bleeding.”

The big, bearded brute of a man who seemed to be in charge laughed at her. “Don’t worry, he’ll live. At least until we get our reward,” he added with an ominous chuckle.

He motioned to one of the three other men who’d crowded into the small chamber. About ten feet by ten, the room was well lit by torches on either side of the arched entry. She saw another door on the far side of the room, but as guard rooms also usually housed the pit prison, she didn’t want to think about it. The man he’d motioned to lifted a bucket from the ground and poured the contents on Lachlan.