Claimed by the Wolf Prince by Marguerite Kaye Page B

afraid to move, yet afraid not to. Transfixed, just as she had been when she encountered the wolf. Such a magnificent beast. Such a magnificent man. An aura redolent of barely contained power hung like a haar around him. Intoxicating. With enormous difficulty, she dragged her eyes away from his. “Who are you?” she demanded. “I am Laird McKinley’s daughter, my father will…”
    â€œI know exactly who you are.” Struan Tolmach eyed the maid with mild interest. She was a slight thing, typical of her kind, but much more attractive than she had a right to be, from what he remembered of her father. Presumably that copper hair and those big green eyes were inherited from her mother. Though that look, all defiance and belligerent pride, was definitely her sire’s.
    â€œI demand that you take me home. This instant!”
    â€œYou’re in no position to make demands. You belong to us now,” Struan said dismissively, taking her roughly by the shoulder and pointing her in the direction of the sea.
    The maid struggled, digging her feet deep into the shingle for purchase, but he held her easily. He was not used to human females displaying resistance—quite the opposite, though he had never once been tempted. Seductive as some of those Highland women had been, Struan preferred to hunt much closer to home. Whatever it was about his kind that made him so irresistible to mortal females, he had no interest in taking advantage of it. He sated his desires within his own tribe.
    â€œLet me go!” She was panting with the effort to get free. “If you agree to take me back now, I’ll explain that you saved me from danger, from the wolf.”
    Her scent was intensely female, but exotic, more delicate than a Faol woman’s. Under his plaid, Struan’s body stirred most inconveniently into life. “Safe from the wolf perhaps, but not necessarily out of danger.”
    She stilled. “What do you mean?”
    Struan turned her around in his arms, pulling her into the lee of his body. She felt good there. Too good. His erection hardened. He tried to close his mind to the rousing scent of her, but could not. What was wrong with him? He tilted her face up. Green eyes, determined to show no fear. He couldn’t help but admire her courage. That surprised him, too. “Iona…”
    She struggled free. “How do you know my name?”
    â€œYour father told me.”
    â€œHow do you come to know him?”
    â€œHe engaged my services some months ago.”
    â€œIn what capacity?”
    â€œTo help him defeat the MacEwans. Which I duly did.”
    It was true, Iona recalled, the McKinleys had recently finally retaken the borderland illegally wrested from them by the MacEwans decades ago. Her father had been so overjoyed he had even thrown a celebratory ceilidh. “My father paid you to help him?”
    â€œWe agreed a fee. Twice now, your father has been reminded, and twice he has failed to honour his debt. He knew the price for defaulting.”
    Iona frowned. “What price?”
    He hadn’t told her, his own kin. It didn’t surprise Struan, but it disgusted him. “The terms were clear,” he said grimly. “He was to surrender that which is most precious to him.”
    â€œYou mean me?” Iona laughed bitterly. “Aye, that would be right enough. A prize asset to be married off to a neighbour as a brood mare, or now, it appears, used as a bargaining tool in some contract dispute.”
    He had expected tears. Pleading. Not this. “I don’t think you fully grasp your situation. Your father reneged on his bargain with the Faol. Unfortunately, you must pay the price for his treachery.”
    â€œFaol? You mean you’re a Faol?” Iona shrank back, her eyes wide with shock. “I’ve heard the stories, but I thought they were just tales of bogeymen, invented to frighten bairns.”
    Struan took her hand and