The Wedding Dress. Kimberly Cates

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СКАЧАТЬ soft swells of breasts straining against cloth as she raised her arms to swing, the alluring curve of hip and narrow waist, as time and again he divested her of her sword.

      She lunged and parried, thrust and gasped for breath, like one of the Valkyries in legends left in Scotland by Vikings invading ages ago. But time and again, Jared swept the sword out of her hands until at last she didn’t have the strength to lift it above her knees.

      “See what I mean?” Jared said. “This whole sword-fight scenario is ludicrous. It’s impossible for Lady Aislinn to win.”

      “Nothing…is…impossible.” She wheezed, bending over, bracing herself on the sword. “One day I’ll find a way to drop you like a rock. Just like Billy Callahan, the school bully.”

      Jared looked her over. “You look like a stiff wind could blow you away.”

      “It throws you arrogant caveman types off guard, and then—whamo. I get a perfect opening.” She slanted a “damn the duchess” glare up at him, but her eyes twinkled.

      “Is that so?”

      She straightened, still breathless, her breasts rising and falling from the exertion. “My grandfather served in special forces. When I was ten years old he taught me how to fight. Death shots and everything. Consider yourself warned, Butler.”

      He grinned. “I’m pure terrified.”

      “You should be. As soon as I find a way to use all that weight and upper-body strength against you in a sword fight, mister, you’re going to be on your butt in the dirt begging for mercy.”

      A horrible yelp split the air from across the burn, followed by a cacophony of snarling that made the hairs on the back of Jared’s neck stand on end. Both horses skittered to one side. Emma caught her breath.

      “My God!” she exclaimed. “What is that? It sounds like someone’s killing something.” She didn’t wait for an answer. Damned if she didn’t wade into the knee-deep water and slog toward the far bank!

      “Emma, stay out of it! It’s just old Snib setting his dogs on some poor—”

      She stumbled, fell, soaking her left side. Didn’t she know how wild the burn could be after a rainstorm? Full of swirling currents that could pull her under. Plunging after her seemed his only option.

      That water was going to be so cold it would take care of any problems he might have being attracted to the woman. His ballocks were going to crawl up inside him and hide for a month!

      He gritted his teeth on an oath as he plunged in after her, but she was already scrambling up the other bank. Just at that moment, the snarling tangle of what sounded to be canines boiled up over the rim of the valley that had concealed them thus far.

      Snib’s two border collies were tearing into what looked to be a ball of mange not even half their size, as the crusty farmer with his tweed cap urged them on.

      “Take the little devil, Shep and Digger. Snap his fool neck!”

      Snib’s knobby old head suddenly jerked away from the fight, seeing the soaked woman stalking toward him with all the high dudgeon a straitjacket of wet wool skirts would allow.

      “What the devil?” Snib swore. “You’re that film star person who—”

      “Call off your dogs!” Emma bellowed, grabbing a fallen branch about as thick as her wrist. “They’re hurting him!”

      “Hurting him? It’s killing him they’re after. I’ll not have a thieving stray sucking eggs in my henhouse!”

      Emma thumped one of the collies in the ribs, trying to bat it away. The collie yelped, but with the intensity of its breed kept battling what it saw as a threat to its flock.

      “Don’t hit the big dog, you crazy woman!” Jared yelled, clambering up onto the bank. “It could turn on you!”

      Ignoring him, Emma whacked the second one while old Snib cursed her, but she might as well have been trying to knock out a swarm of bees with a cricket bat. Fangs flashed, tearing at the mangy dog, who fought back as if he were ten feet tall. One of the collies gave a yelp as the little dog launched itself and sank teeth into its shoulder. The bloody little fool held on tight.

      Blood streaked the dogs’ coats. And for an instant Jared wished Emma McDaniel would do what she’d promised—and goddamn well faint. The woman passing out cold was the only thing he could think of at the moment that might get her out of danger.

      Emma flung away her stick, but it wasn’t in surrender. Jared knew in his gut she was going to plunge headlong into the nastiest dogfight he’d ever seen and try to snatch the mutt to safety. Fear jolted through him as the image of Emma’s hands torn and bleeding flashed in his mind.

      He reached her just in time, encircling her waist with his arms, dragging her back against him. The woman kicked and struggled as if he were trying to haul her into danger instead of out of it.

      “Don’t! They’re hurting him!” Her voice choked. With tears? He’d never know. Her heel connected hard with his shin.

      “I’ll get the damned dog if you settle down,” he promised with a fatalistic grimace. “I’ll heal faster.”

      She stilled, her breath catching in her throat, her breasts soft against his arm. He released her. Cursing himself six times a fool, Jared dove into the fight.

      Chapter Five

      “HAVE YOU GONE daft?” Snib shrilled in disbelief.

      Pain pierced Jared’s hand as one of the dogs bit him. Probably the little bastard he was trying to save. Another dog ripped at his shirt.

      “Call them off, Snib.” Jared’s hands finally closed about the wriggling mass of fur. Jared booted the collie nearest him and pulled the little dog in to his chest. “Hey,” Jared yelped in pain as the mutt snapped his sharp little teeth into the only thing he could reach—Jared’s pecs.

      “Down, Shep. Digger. Heel,” Snib commanded. The collies dropped, shaking from tail to snout as they fought the urge to finish the kill. But if their master had changed his mind, they’d obey him.

      Jared’s hands dripped blood, the bite in his chest burned, the terrier eyeing him not with gratitude but plain old resentment for ending the fight.

      Eyelids peeled back from black button eyes. The terrier showed its sharp fangs and yipped at his attackers as if to say “Let me at ’em, bloody cowards.” For God’s sake, with its lip curled like that it looked like an angry rat—the kind who carried distemper and bubonic plague. A rat determined to bite whatever happened to be in reach.

      Jared shifted the dog away from its apparent target: Jared’s jugular. He didn’t need another souvenir from this debacle. Sensing a chance to break free, the little demon writhed in Jared’s grasp, flailing its spindly legs, its ribs so sparsely fleshed the bones seemed to grind together.

      “Settle down, or I’ll strangle you myself,” Jared warned, holding on for dear life. Damned if he wanted to go plunging into the creek a second time in pursuit of the dog.

      Emma swept off her surcoat, stepping СКАЧАТЬ