She had to fight for breath to speak. To moisten her lips in order to form words with them.
“I never attempted to kill you,” she said.
Yet his eyes condemned her. She thought that there was nothing she could say that would change him.
Still, she tried.
“I tell you, David, I never attempted to murder you, I never wanted you dead?—”
“Really? Someone did. And you were the one who lured me to the stables that night.”
There was, she realized quickly, no forgiveness within him. Had he brought her back here to make sure she was well aware of who was dealing a deathblow to her when he fell upon her?
“Talk to me, Shawna!” he demanded, his fingers biting into her flesh.
She could no longer bear his nearness, his casual, intimate touch. She drew her fists up between them, slamming down hard against his chest. Talk to him? She’d been trying to talk to him. The truth meant nothing to him. He refused to accept it. “Go to hell, Laird Douglas! You’ve judged me already. I’ve nothing more to say.” She slammed her hands against his chest again with all the force she could muster, managing to force him back a step. She instantly saw her small reprieve and knew she had but little chance to quickly make the best of it. She spun around, determined to make a mad dash for the door.
She barely moved a step before he caught her upper arm. She was spun roughly back to face him. To meet the glittering green fury in his eyes.
“You might well have been dead now yourself if I had not come from the water! Do you deny that some conspiracy exists here?”
“I cannot deny evil exists in the world! Or that there are evil men who might wish to steal from us, who might assault a woman in that quest. Now, let me go?—”
“It may well be your own family.”
“It might well have been some wretched beast who has come along with you as your henchman?—”
“I fought the man.”
“So you say.”
“Ah, and you say your family would never harm you.”
“You are harming me!” With her cry, she again tried to escape his hold, shoulders straightening against the force of his hands upon her. She tried to pull back, elude him. His fingers slipped from her arms and fell fully upon her breasts, hard calloused palms against her nipples. She shrieked out, amazed at how very desperate she was to avoid his touch. Caught in the menace of sheer sensation, she wildly pummeled his chest, then desperately raised a hand to strike his face. He caught her wrist before any blow could fall.
“Stop!” he commanded her.
“Nay—”
She had the sensation of flying as he lifted her up and tossed her down. There was nothing but air beneath her before she landed upon her back again on the great ancient Douglas bed.
With him over her once again, pinning her there. She gasped, staring up at him furiously, fighting both her fear of the hard man he had become and an even more frightening fear of the emotion that was riding within her.
Her shoulders were bare. Her breasts nearly so. Another move and she’d be half-naked. She struggled to maintain some semblance of dignity in her current position, flat upon her back.She tried not to think of how terribly vulnerable she was or of how she felt with his bare thighs pressing against her hips.
She didn’t want to wonder if his anger was so great he would rape her. Most of all, she didn’t want to acknowledge the fire within her own body, created by his very nearness. She didn’t want to remember the way that he could make her feel. The touch of his fingers against her flesh when he’d had tender feelings for her…
“Shawna!”
No tenderness. Just steel. Merciless.
Lord God, she had to moisten her lips again. He touched her. Touched her in far too many ways.
She lifted her chin, met his eyes. “No one within Clan MacGinnis would ever wish me harm, Laird Douglas. You had best take that to heart. I’ve uncles and cousins living within these walls.”
“Oh, I am well aware of that. Clan MacGinnis certainly had no difficulty moving right in.”
“Your father had no heart for this place, your brother no interest! By tradition, responsibility for your holdings fell to the MacGinnises, and we assumed responsibility at your father’s request and with his blessing! From this residence, it is far easier to?—”