away from the campfire. “Ye tried to escape from me. ’Tis one and the same,” he grated through clenched teeth as he strode toward the standing stones on the far edge of the meadow. “I ordered ye not to escape. Yet ye willfully disobeyed me.”
“H-how do you intend t-to punish m-me?” Yvette warbled.
Given that her eyes were twin orbs of stark fear, Iain knew she imagined all manner of gruesome torture.
Seeing no sense in withholding the truth, he said, “I am going to beat ye.”
At h earing that, Yvette’s struggles became all the more frenzied.
“ Lest you have forgotten, I threw a rock at the boar!” she exclaimed in her defense.
“ Yet another transgression. Didna I tell you not to move?”
“But I feared t he boar would run you through. I acted only to save you.”
“Yer intention was noble, I’ll grant ye . But ’twas foolhardy nonetheless. Ye could have been killed,” Iain added, wishing that she hadn’t brought up the matter of the boar. “The next time I give an order, you will obey. Or suffer the consequences.”
“As though I were naught but a dumb animal under your dominion,” Yvette murmured dejectedly. Having suddenly become pliant, her struggles had all but ceased.
“ Dinna put words into my mouth. Ye are under my dominion, true, but ye’re also under my protection,” Iain clarified, refusing to cede her any ground. “’Tis impossible to protect a woman who throws herself off the back of a galloping horse, only to run headlong into a boar.”
“The first was out of necessity and the second was unintentional,” Yvette mumbled.
“And neither would have happened if ye had obeyed me,” Iain countered, bringing the argument full circle.
As they approached the standing stones, a ponderous yellow moon hung low in the eastern sky, casting a golden light onto the landscape. The luminous glow made the auld pagan temple appear more mysterious than usual.
When he reached the sandstone altar, Iain came to a halt. Glancing downward, he noticed that the light from the moon reflected off the mica flakes, causing the stone’s rough-hewn surface to softly glimmer.
“Remove yer cloak,” he said brusquely as he released his hold on Yvette’s arm.
Without uttering a word , she obediently unfastened her fur-lined mantle. Then, shrugging her elegant shoulders, she let the costly garment fall to the ground.
Annoyed with her regal disdain, Iain seated himself on the altar. Yanking Yvette across his lap, he wasted no time shoving her skirts to her waist, exposing the creamy, lush curves of her bottom.
No sooner did he set his avid gaze upon that lovely posterior than Yvette renewed her struggles in earnest.
“Hold still,” he commanded, her writhing bod y inciting his lust.
“I pray thee, do not strike me!” Yvette pleaded, the rising moon bathing her face in a soft nimbus of light, imbuing her with an almost ethereal beauty. “I swear I will never again attempt to escape from you! Please, Iain! I am begging you to show leniency.”
About to raise his hand against her, Iain instead stared at the woman sprawled across his thighs.
It was the first time since her abduction that Yvette had pleaded for mercy. And it was also the first time she’d called him by name, Iain wondering if she was even aware that she’d done so.
Unable to tear his gaze from Yvette’s face, he peered into her soulful brown eyes, instantly put in mind of a shy woodland nymph. And randy satyr that he was, he wanted to lay her down on the dewy grass at his feet and make love to her until they both fell into a stupor.
I do no’ want to beat her. Surely, the wench knows that I will derive no pleasure from it.
Torn between what he knew he must do – mete out her punishment – and what he longed to do – mate with her – Iain fought a fierce inner battle between reason and desire.
Unwillingly, he thought of the e arlier incident with the boar, Yvette having been like David slinging a rock at
“H-how do you intend t-to punish m-me?” Yvette warbled.
Given that her eyes were twin orbs of stark fear, Iain knew she imagined all manner of gruesome torture.
Seeing no sense in withholding the truth, he said, “I am going to beat ye.”
At h earing that, Yvette’s struggles became all the more frenzied.
“ Lest you have forgotten, I threw a rock at the boar!” she exclaimed in her defense.
“ Yet another transgression. Didna I tell you not to move?”
“But I feared t he boar would run you through. I acted only to save you.”
“Yer intention was noble, I’ll grant ye . But ’twas foolhardy nonetheless. Ye could have been killed,” Iain added, wishing that she hadn’t brought up the matter of the boar. “The next time I give an order, you will obey. Or suffer the consequences.”
“As though I were naught but a dumb animal under your dominion,” Yvette murmured dejectedly. Having suddenly become pliant, her struggles had all but ceased.
“ Dinna put words into my mouth. Ye are under my dominion, true, but ye’re also under my protection,” Iain clarified, refusing to cede her any ground. “’Tis impossible to protect a woman who throws herself off the back of a galloping horse, only to run headlong into a boar.”
“The first was out of necessity and the second was unintentional,” Yvette mumbled.
“And neither would have happened if ye had obeyed me,” Iain countered, bringing the argument full circle.
As they approached the standing stones, a ponderous yellow moon hung low in the eastern sky, casting a golden light onto the landscape. The luminous glow made the auld pagan temple appear more mysterious than usual.
When he reached the sandstone altar, Iain came to a halt. Glancing downward, he noticed that the light from the moon reflected off the mica flakes, causing the stone’s rough-hewn surface to softly glimmer.
“Remove yer cloak,” he said brusquely as he released his hold on Yvette’s arm.
Without uttering a word , she obediently unfastened her fur-lined mantle. Then, shrugging her elegant shoulders, she let the costly garment fall to the ground.
Annoyed with her regal disdain, Iain seated himself on the altar. Yanking Yvette across his lap, he wasted no time shoving her skirts to her waist, exposing the creamy, lush curves of her bottom.
No sooner did he set his avid gaze upon that lovely posterior than Yvette renewed her struggles in earnest.
“Hold still,” he commanded, her writhing bod y inciting his lust.
“I pray thee, do not strike me!” Yvette pleaded, the rising moon bathing her face in a soft nimbus of light, imbuing her with an almost ethereal beauty. “I swear I will never again attempt to escape from you! Please, Iain! I am begging you to show leniency.”
About to raise his hand against her, Iain instead stared at the woman sprawled across his thighs.
It was the first time since her abduction that Yvette had pleaded for mercy. And it was also the first time she’d called him by name, Iain wondering if she was even aware that she’d done so.
Unable to tear his gaze from Yvette’s face, he peered into her soulful brown eyes, instantly put in mind of a shy woodland nymph. And randy satyr that he was, he wanted to lay her down on the dewy grass at his feet and make love to her until they both fell into a stupor.
I do no’ want to beat her. Surely, the wench knows that I will derive no pleasure from it.
Torn between what he knew he must do – mete out her punishment – and what he longed to do – mate with her – Iain fought a fierce inner battle between reason and desire.
Unwillingly, he thought of the e arlier incident with the boar, Yvette having been like David slinging a rock at
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