The Warlords Revenge Read online

  “North.”

  Okay. Maybe she needed to be more direct in her questioning. She wasn't getting much information. “How far north?”

  “It's about a four day ride. Five if you slow me down.”

  “And what am I to do once we get to your home?” She held her breath, anticipating his answer.

  “Whatever I tell you to do.”

  “Well, that really narrows things down.”

  “Your father took my family, my children, it only seems fitting that his daughter should give it back to me.”

  “What?!” Jane didn't try to disguise her outrage. Was the man insane?

  “I will get back what was taken from me, at least part of it,” he said, spitting the words. “And you've good enough looks that I'll enjoy it as well.”

  She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Good enough looks that he'd enjoy it? What a boor he was; a savage, a ... a ... barbarian! The very thought of him repulsed her. “If you think I'll cooperate with this, you've got another thing coming. I'm no broodmare!”

  “Oh, yes ...” He chuckled, sounding pleased. “I'm certain you'll put up a good fight. Which I'll also enjoy.”

  “You're a beast!”

  “You only know the half of it.” He flicked the reigns, making the horse carry them faster.

  Asking more questions or doing anything to provoke his temper was something that could wait. Jane honestly didn't want the details of what he had planned for her. Even though she was still a virgin, she'd seen enough to know what happens between a man and a woman, and her imagination knew no bounds. That was all she needed to completely terrify herself.

  They rode for hours, well into the night. She figured Gavyn wanted to put as much distance between himself and his crime as possible. She wondered how long it would be until someone discovered her dead family. She also had a sneaking suspicion no one would give any hints as to who had stormed into their home and killed them. They weren't a very likable lot.

  That also meant no one would be looking for her. No help was coming. There was no hope of rescue. She had only herself to rely on now.

  When they finally stopped at an inn, she thought about making a scene as Gavyn pulled her from the horse, but she was too tired. She'd fought off sleep to avoid resting in his arms and she could barely keep up with him as he led her inside.

  The inn was quiet at this time of night, warm and inviting. The woman who gave them a room had rosy cheeks and a nice smile, and the smells of cooking food drifted upstairs from the kitchen. Jane might actually have liked the place in different company.

  She was almost dead on her feet when Gavyn ordered food to be sent up and some new clothes for both of them. At least he was partially civilized. When she heard him also order a fresh bath to be drawn, she shot him a hateful stare.

  “I'm not bathing with you,” she announced. “It's bad enough you expect us to share the same room.”

  He strode over to her. “I’m no' letting you out of my sight, lass.” He chucked a finger under her chin. “You've blood in your hair and dirt on your face and under your nails. You won't sleep next to me unless you wash.”

  “It's your fault I'm dirty and there's blood in my hair,” she fumed. Normally appearance and grooming were priorities for her. “And I won't be sleeping next to you, or anywhere near you, so you don't have to worry about it.” How bad could the floor be?

  He sat on the bed and began pulling off his boots. “You can eat first. I'm sure you'll be ready for bed after a nice, hot bath.”

  “Are you so sure?” she argued. “You don't know what I need.”

  “I know you almost fell asleep a dozen times on the ride here.”

  Damn. Score for the warlord.

  He arranged two chairs at the small table in the corner. “You need rest. We have an early morning.”

  There was a knock at the door and a young girl came into the room and poured some water into the basin on the dresser and set out a clean towel before leaving. Jane eyed the open door, and frowned when Gavyn closed it.

  Crossing the small room, she washed her hands and face in the basin and stared in horror at her reflection in the mirror. Hollow blue eyes stared back at her. Her blonde hair was tangled and matted. Her cheek and neck bruised from where he'd hit her and choked her. Blood was smeared across the front of her favorite blue dress.

  “See?” His cold eyes glanced in the mirror over her shoulder. “You're in quite a shape.”

  “Thanks to you!” She spun on her heel to face him. “Didn't your mother ever teach you not to beat up women?”

  “You're no woman,” he spat. “You're a Stewart, with plenty of fight. Be glad I'm not having you spend the night out in the stables where you belong.”

  Jane gasped. The bastard! He was the animal, not her. Maybe she'd stolen some things in her life, told a lie or two, and so she'd cheated at cards a few times. She'd never killed anyone or kidnapped anyone. Unlike this man and her family, she had some sense of right and wrong. Her version of morality might be slightly skewed, but at least she had one.

  She opened her mouth to shoot him a heated reply when another knock at the door interrupted her. The woman from downstairs brought in a tray of food and wine. She gave Jane a sideways look, obviously studying her bruises, before hurrying out of the room.

  Jane plopped down in one of the chairs next to the table, picked up a fork, and began nibbling at the potatoes. “I assume I can eat, or are you going to have some oats brought up from the stables?”

  “You demonstrate a knowledge of silverware, so that won't be necessary.” He took the seat next to her and began slicing the chicken, placing a few pieces of the meat on her side of the plate.

  She tried to eat slowly, taking small bites. The last thing she wanted was to let him see just how hungry she was. As they ate, the woman came back to draw the bath, quietly issuing instructions to the few servants who were coming and going with buckets of hot water. While the servants worked, she started a fire in the hearth, then disappeared, to return when Jane and Gavyn were finished, with a bundle of fresh clothes that she left on the bed.

  Jane watched the people move around, performing their duties.. The distraction helped her avoid looking at Gavyn. The way he was eyeing her made her nervous. She felt him taking in every little detail of her appearance and did her best to ignore him. And the fact that he might be seeing more of her shortly.

  When they finished the meal, Gavyn put the tray out in the hall. He pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it on the floor before reclining on the bed with a rumbling sigh.

  Jane felt her cheeks flush with heat when she saw the solid muscles of his chest and arms, rippling along his stomach. She'd never been this close to a man who was so gloriously built. She'd only seen men like him at the fights, and she usually had to stay hiding in the back, trusting her brothers to save her portion of the winnings and not spend it on booze and whores.

  “You can bathe now,” he told her.

  His position on the bed afforded him a full view of the bath. He really intended to watch her. How embarrassing. No one had seen her naked before.

  “And you'll wait out in the hall?” She crossed her arms, wanting to shield as much of herself from this man as she could.

  “No.”

  “Then you'll at least turn around –”

  “No.” He clasped his hands behind his head and crossed his feet at the ankles, leaning back into the pillows. “You'll get used to having my eyes on you.”

  She was flustered. She would never get used to something like that. She didn't care if he was one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen. He looked at her with disgust.

  She suddenly wanted to cry, but she'd had enough tears for one day. Walking over to the bath, she tested the temperature of the water with a sweep of her hand. It was hot, inviting, and she could imagine what it would feel like to sink down in the water and wash the layer of grime from her skin and hair. If only she was alone.

  “Will
you at least turn away while I undress?” she asked over her shoulder.

  “You don't need to play the shy lass for me,” he said. “I'm certain you're well used to shedding your clothes for men.”

  She glared at him. Unbelievable. “You're certain, are you? I suppose I have whore written all over me.”

  He nodded. “Aye.”

  Jane wanted to set the awful man straight, but he probably wouldn't believe her, and if she let him know she was a virgin, he might hurt her worse. It would be best to keep her mouth shut. The less he knew about her, the better. She'd have the element of surprise on her side, and that would be the only way to topple a man like Gavyn MacLaren.

  She turned her back to him and whisked off her clothes and shoes. She climbed into the bath, keeping her back to him. Hopefully he hadn't seen much. Mortified, she sank under the water. When she surfaced, she hurried with the soap, washing the dirt and blood away. She inspected the bruises around her wrists and on her legs. She hated to think there might be more on her back from the fall Gavyn had given her.

  She washed her hair and started combing it out with her fingers when she saw him appear next to the tub. She pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them to her. He started unfastening his trousers.

  “What are you doing?” She felt a tremor of fear. She wasn't ready for this.

  “I'm joining you.” He dropped his trousers. His large erection hung heavy in front of her and she turned away from him.

  That was the second time she'd seen a naked man. The first had been when she'd spied on a neighbor she once had; a good-looking bachelor who liked to swim naked in his pond every afternoon, right before tea. She'd only been curious and figured a little peek wouldn't hurt. No one had ever found out.

  When Gavyn slid into the tub, Jane reached for a towel and clambered out, almost tripping over the edge before she got the towel wrapped around her. He lunged for her but she backed away across the room.

  “I'm not bathing with you.” She shivered as water dripped to the floor around her.

  “I thought I could wash your back.” He raked his eyes over her. “And then you could wash mine.”

  “I've been bathing myself adequately for years, and if you need someone to wash your back, I suggest you ask the innkeeper.”

  “I'd rather it were a pretty, young girl.”

  “I'm sure she could arrange that, though it might cost you extra.”

  “I was referring to you, lass,” he said, rubbing the soap between his large hands.

  Jane felt her cheeks blush. She did find him handsome, and if he didn't hate her she might consider doing what he wanted. She was curious how all that male flesh would feel, soapy and wet under her hands. She wanted to lie with a man. She was ready. Really ready.

  She'd been searching out a husband over the last few months, getting desperate enough that she would have accepted almost any offer. Even an arranged one. She'd hoped a new husband would've taken her away from her dreadful family and now she no longer had to worry about them. They were gone. And she was alone. Hijacked by a warlord. Who wanted to get her pregnant and then probably kill her. She had the most rotten luck.

  “At least dry yourself by the fire.” He scrubbed soap in his hair. “I don't need you catching cold and slowing me down.” He ducked under the water to rinse.

  Jane shuffled over to the hearth, basking in the heat of the orange blaze. What she really needed was to dry her hair, but she only had one towel, and she wasn’t taking it off in front of Gavyn. She walked over to her pile of clothes next to the tub and searched her undergarments until she found her shift. It was the only garment of hers the warlord hadn't damaged. Funny.

  Gavyn’s wet hand shot out and latched onto her wrist. “What are you looking for?”

  She narrowed her eyes, irritated by his tyrannical behavior. “Something to put on.”

  “You'll no' need anything to sleep in.” His blue eyes fixed on hers, glowering, as the muscles in his jaw tightened.

  “Yet you say you don’t want me to catch cold.” She glanced at the scar on his face. A shiver went through her.

  “You won't catch cold sleeping next to me.”

  “I don't want to sleep next to you!” She tried to slip out of his grasp.

  “This isn't about what you want.” He let her go and rose out of the tub. “It's about what I want.” He rubbed a towel over his short hair.

  Jane marched back over to the fire and started combing out her hair, letting the heat dry it. She could hear Gavyn drying himself behind her, and though she was rather tempted, she didn't turn to look at him. She shouldn't be admiring his body. He wanted to do terrible things to her. She should be concentrating on her escape.

  She heard him taking steps towards her and she went still, too anxious to look at him now. She was startled when he took her hair in his hands and began drying it with his towel. Soon her lids grew heavy as he massaged the towel through her hair. His gentleness was unexpected.

  It made her think of how her mother used to dry and brush her hair, before she'd died so many years ago. Jane had only been eight years old, but she still remembered everything about her mother. Her voice, her smile, her blonde hair. Jane's mother was the only person in the world who'd ever loved her. And the only person she’d loved.

  Gavyn scooped her up in his arms, shocking her out of the memory. He carried her over to the bed as if she weighed nothing. He made her feel so small, so frail, so ... insignificant. And she wasn't used to feeling those things. She hated him.

  He placed her under the blankets and tugged at the towel she had wrapped around her, pulling it free and tossing it on the floor. Then he slid into the bed behind her and closed his arms around her, pulling her naked body against his. She felt every inch of him. His hard muscles and smooth skin. His erection pressing into her bottom. He made no move to touch her, he simply held her. His warmth surrounded her and she couldn't fight off sleep. Not for another second.

  When morning arrived, Jane was horrified to find that she was nestled even further into Gavyn's arms, and for a moment she liked the way it felt. Safe. She quickly had to remind herself exactly who and what he was. Safe was the last thing she should feel with him. When she moved to sit up, her entire body ached and groaned in protest. She hurt in places she didn't even know she had courtesy of the warlord.

  She looked at Gavyn, hoping to find him still sleeping, and cursing her bad luck when she saw his blue eyes staring back at her.

  “Can I get dressed now?” She huffed. “Or do you intend to parade me around on your horse naked?”

  His roguish smile was positively irresistible. “I would prefer you act like a lady, no matter how crude your manners are.”

  Jane seethed. When had she demonstrated a lack of manners around this man? While fighting for her life? Or being forced to bathe in front of him and sleep naked with him? None of those things were her fault. A retort almost rolled off her tongue, but she thought it better to prove her manners with actions, rather than words. She wisely kept her mouth shut.

  Gavyn unwrapped the bundle of new clothes and flung some things at her, then started stuffing his legs into a pair of trousers. The brown dress was a little plain for her tastes and the fit was slightly large. She'd make do. It would only be a matter of time before she could buy some new clothes. She'd make it up to herself by getting something bright and pretty with the finest fabric she could afford. Maybe some new shoes as well. And a bottle of French champagne to celebrate her freedom. She was already feeling better.

  They rode all morning and into the afternoon before Gavyn allowed them to stop next to a winding stream. They barely spoke to one another on the ride, and when they did, it consisted of him attacking her character and of her accepting his put downs. She was able to bear it knowing freedom was just around the corner. His criticisms only made her want to get away from him more.

  What she couldn't ignore was the curious attraction she felt to him. Even as he spoke hateful things in her ear,
she delighted in the sound of his thick brogue. She was getting used to having him so close to her all the time, his hands on her. And when he was away from her, she felt drawn to him, wanted to be near him. He had a rough kind of charm that she responded to. Cold and warm all at the same time. It baffled her.

  When he knelt beside the stream, his back to her, and began filling the water container, her first instinct was to run. He'd easily catch her on foot, so she'd have to take the horse.

  Move!

  Backing towards the horse, she never took her eyes from him. She reached out for the reigns and came to a halt when she felt something cold and metal press against her neck.

  “ 'ello, beautiful,” said the man behind her. He forced the knife blade against her throat as he seized her.

  Gavyn was already getting to his feet and drawing his sword as two other men closed in on him. He wore a dark expression; brows drawn, blue eyes glowing. Violent. For once, Jane wasn't on the receiving end of that look.

  “We'll be takin' your 'orse an' your woman,” said the shorter of the two men, “an' your money, so 'and it over.” He raised a sword.

  Gavyn smiled, flashing white teeth, ready for a fight. “Come and take it.”

  The short man lunged forward and didn't even realize he'd been cut down until he hit the ground. Jane admired the way Gavyn moved so gracefully; with strength and proficiency. She'd bet he could still hit his mark with his eyes closed. The taller man attacked with his sword, displaying better fighting skills than his friend, but he was still no match for the warlord.

  The man holding Jane jumped on Gavyn's horse and dragged her up with him. Fighting wildly, she clawed at him, so he tossed her face down over his lap and raced off into the forest. The clanging of swords grew distant. Jane panicked. She'd gotten away from Gavyn, yet now she had a new man to deal with. Being dragged and tossed and bullied was becoming too much the norm for her. It was time to find a new use for herself.

  She sank her teeth into the man's leg and then grabbed his ankle and worked to toss him from the horse. He screamed out and threw her to the ground, bringing the horse to a stop and jumping down next to her. Hitting her head on grass was preferable to a hard, stone floor. At least she was getting better at taking the hits.