LITMIR.BIZ

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and cover her mouth with his own. He longed to kiss her till they were both mindless and breathless with desire.

      “Allisun,” he whispered, lowering his head.

      “What?” She blinked and shook her head, then flinched. back away from him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

      “This.” He moved closer, a hairbreadth from her lips.

      She gasped and dodged aside. “Is this the way you keep your truce, by...by attacking me the moment my guard is down?”

      “I was merely giving us what we both want.”

      “Want?” She dropped his leg back into the water. “You are mad! This unholy lust must run in the Carmichael blood. But I am not as easy a mark as my poor father was.”

      “You will cease implying that my aunt was some sort of—”

      “Whore!” Allisun sneered. “Adulteress. Is that not what they call a woman who steals another woman’s bus—”

      “Hello, there!” called a loud male voice.

      Hunter whipped his head up, shocked to find a band of mounted men watching them from across the stream. There must be a score, at least, dressed in leather jacks and trews, swords at their sides, riding sleek horses.

      Allisun cursed ripely under her breath and reached for the knife she’d set on the bank.

      “Not Murrays, I take it?” Hunter whispered.

      “Nay. Nor Bells, either, but they’re not the only vermin hereabouts.” She scrambled to her feet, her knife held before her. “Stay back.”

      Hunter grabbed his sword from the stony riverbank, for all the good he’d be on only one leg.

      Chapter Four

      

      

      “Who are you?” Hunter demanded.

      The foremost man, a stout fellow with graying hair and a wide, florid face, smiled and held both his hands up, palms out. “Easy...easy. We mean ye no harm.”

      “English,” Allisun hissed.

      Hunter scowled. “How can you tell? He sounds like a Scot.”

      “To you, mayhap, but a Borderer can hear the difference.” Allisun glared at the newcomers. “Be on your way, Englishman.”

      “Derk Neville,” the man replied, directing a puzzled glance at Allisun before returning his attention to Hunter. “And the lass is right, I was born across the Tweed. Like many men, I’ve land on both sides of the river. Last year, I bought a fine Scottish tower, and that’s where I make my home at present. We are on our way back there from Kelso.” He gestured at his troop, which included a few heavily laden packhorses. “Went there to fetch some goods my wife ordered.”

      “How many men have you got sneaking around behind us?” Allisun demanded.

      “None.” Derk looked affronted. “We came down to water our beasts and saw ye two, er, doing whatever ye’re doing.”

      Hunter flushed. “I’ve twisted my—”

      “He’s washing his feet,” Allisun said.

      Derk grinned. “Oh, aye. Well, we’ll just give the beasts a wee sip and be on our way.”

      “Don’t come any clos—”

      Hunter clamped a hand on her leg. “You’ll have to excuse her curtness. We were set upon by brigands.”

      “Was it Bells?” Derk exclaimed.

      “Aye,” Hunter said slowly, neither trusting nor distrusting. “How did you know?”

      “Well, most of the ill deeds done hereabouts can be laid at Ill Will’s door, but,” he said as he glanced around, “truth to tell, we’d not be taking this trail through the glen if my scouts hadn’t spotted Will and his bunch up on the moor.”

      “What were they doing?” Hunter and Allisun both asked.

      “Roasting a haunch of beef.”

      “You are certain ’twas not a man?” Allisun asked.

      “The lass knows Ill Will, I see. Nay, ’twas a steer. They had a good-size herd standing about nearby. Will’s men looked right busy keeping an eye on them, but my lads and I decided we’d not take a chance the Bells had time to rob us.” He grinned. “My Morna’d have a fit if I lost that thick Turkish carpet before she’s had a chance to walk on it.”

      Hunter smiled back and laid his sword down. “We understand. Come ahead and water your stock, Derk Neville.”

      “Nay,” Allisun softly cried. “What if he’s lying?”

      “Shh.” Hunter motioned her down beside him. “The truth is, if Derk wanted to kill us, there is not a damn thing I could do to stop him,” he whispered. It galled, for he was a man who prided himself on his ability to cope with any situation. “I might take one or two with me,” he added, watching out of the corner of his eye as the Nevilles dismounted and brought their mounts to drink at the stream. “But I’d not win.”

      “Us,” she hissed back. “I know how to use this, and if I had a sword—”

      “Allisun.” He closed his hand over her clenched fist. “Even if we had two swords apiece, they’d best us.”

      She glared hatred at the Nevilles. “What do we do?”

      Derk Neville hailed them from across the stream. “Couldn’t help noticing ye’ve no horses about.”

      “They are grazing,” Allisun replied.

      Hunter squeezed her hand, then looked at Derk. “Actually, we lost both mounts getting away from the Bells.”

      “Ah. Ye’re lucky to be alive. Ye hurt yer foot?” At Hunter’s nod, Derk frowned. “If ye like, we could juggle our load and free up a horse for the pair of ye to ride.”

      “Aye,” said Hunter.

      “Nay,” said Allisun.

      “We must. No telling how long before our kinsmen can safely look for us,” Hunter said through his teeth. No telling if they were even alive. Then louder he said, “Thanks. We accept.”

      Allisun spat a curse that would have made a trooper blush.

      “Did your mother never tell you swearing isn’t ladylike?”

      “She died when I was six.”

      Hunter’s anger leached away. “I am sorry.” Recalling the gentle guidance and unswerving love of his own mother, Hunter felt a stab of pity for this prickly lass. With his free hand, he gently grazed her cheek.

      She knocked his hand aside, her eyes flashing blue fire, her chin mutinously high. “I’m not going with you.”

      Beneath her defiance, Hunter saw a flicker of fear. It stabbed at his conscience, reminding him that he was responsible for her safety. Whether she liked it or not. “Aye, you are. I’ll not leave you here alone and on foot with the Bells—”

      “You are not responsible for me,” she snapped.

      “Lovers’ quarrel?” Derk asked, grinning as he waded across the stream.

      Allisun glared at Derk and tried vainly to wrench her hand from Hunter’s grip. “We are not—”

      “Of a sort,” Hunter interjected, seeing an answer to the questions he knew Derk would pose about who they were. “We were running away.” Beside him, he heard Allisun draw breath to protest. He stilled it by wrapping a loverlike arm around her waist and squeezing... hard.

      “Humph,” Allisun wheezed, exhaling noisily.

      “Her family does

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