Can a kiss between enemies be the catalyst of ending an age-old feud?
Excerpt from Highland Storm:
(Hawke has been struck down on the battlefield and left for dead. Phoebe, the enemy goes to pick the pockets of the dead men, him included.)
“I have one more man to check,” the woman answered, her voice coming closer to Hawke. He heard her light footsteps and the sweep of her gown over the dry earth as she approached him.
Then Hawke felt the light touch of a woman’s hand going through his pockets. It took all his strength to keep from drifting into an unconscious state since his pain was so intense. The MacNabs had stolen his sword but he still had a dagger hidden in the waistband of his plaid. Hawke had to do something to save his grandfather or die trying. He would not lose him and neither would he return to the castle without him. Suddenly, an idea came to him. This would be his only chance, so he needed to stay conscious to do it.
His hand lashed out and gripped the girl’s wrist as his eyes popped open, scaring her since she thought he was dead.
“Och!” she cried, looking down at Hawke in terror. Fear filled her hazel eyes. Because she was startled, it gave him the advantage. She was just a wench so it should be easy to hold her, even with his wounds and his pounding head. Stirring up the strength he needed to continue with his plan, Hawke pulled her to him. At the same time he sat up, trying to concentrate so he wouldn’t pass out.
With his free hand, he reached for his hidden dagger. Then he got to his feet, pulling the wench toward him, holding his blade to her throat.
“Release Ian MacKeefe or I’ll kill her, I swear I will!” he shouted, stopping the MacNabs from leaving. Blood covered his chest from his wound, soaking into the girl’s clothes as well. Her body trembled beneath his touch, but she did not fight him.
“He’s no’ dead, ye fools!” cried the man in charge.
“Euan, I’m sorry. I could have sworn he was,” answered a man from their clan. “I had a hard time removin’ my sword from his flesh.”
“I should kill ye, Lennox for bein’ so daft.”
“Release him,” Hawke called out, keeping his blade to the girl’s throat.
“Hawke, what are ye doin’?” shouted Ian. His hands were tied behind his back and he was thrown face down over one of the horses.
“Release him, Euan,” shouted the girl. “Do what he says. My life is at stake.”
“Nay,” answered the man stubbornly, turning a half circle on his horse. “We’re takin’ The MacKeefe back to our laird.” He looked over at Hawke and only hesitated for a moment before he continued. “Keep the girl I dinna care.”
“What?” both Hawke and the girl said at the same time.
“We dinna need her,” continued Euan, raising his arm in the air, signaling to the others. “Let’s go, men.”