Page 14 of Highlander’s Mercenary Lass

Andrew's green eyes twinkled. For the first time since the laird's death, he was having fun. He dangled the leather pouch in front of the lass.

She took a swipe, trying to get the pocket back, but Andrew deliberately pulled it out of her reach.

"Now, now," he said teasingly. "I need to ken that it is yers first."

Andrew's jade eyes met with the lass's. She looked like she was breathing venom. He knew it was bad, but Andrew could not help chuckling at the sight of her, her face darkening like a thunder cloud.

"Give it back to me!" she snapped, hurling herself in front of Andrew and leaping for the purse.

Andrew held it back. He knew he should not, but when he had said he needed to know the purse was hers first, he was not truly lying. It had just been there, on the ground, below the table when she left. In theory, it could have been there all along, and it might belong to anyone in the inn. In reality, even if it had, he would still have happily handed it over to the lass.

"Wheesht!" said Andrew playfully, holding the leather pouch over her head. "This could belong to anybody. I need ye to tell me what is inside it first, an' och, maybe yer name?"

The girl's face darkened. She bit her lip, and for one moment, Andrew felt sorry for her.

"There's five pounds and four shillings in there, plus a pretty penny too," the lass announced. Then she looked at him warily. "That's if it's nae been pinched!"

Andrew melted. He handed the purse back to her with an apologetic grin.

"Count it," he said with a smile. The speed with which the girl grabbed the pouch was truly astounding. Within a split second, she had the purse contents in the palm of her hand, stacking the shiny coins neatly.

"All there?" asked Andrew politely.

The lass looked at him, an arched expression on her face. "Nay," she said flatly. "It's a shilling down." She turned to face him, with her perfect face tilted down.

Andrew felt his heart rush.

"But, miss, I counted four..." His voice trailed off as she opened the palm of her hand to reveal five pounds and three shillings. "Hmm, that's a wee bit strange."

Andrew pulled his best-confused face as he scrutinized the lass in front of her. Under inspection, she did not crack, and her expression held up well, which was more than Andrew could say for himself. It was all he could do not to start laughing at her nerve. He knew damn well she was pulling a fast one, and he got the distinct impression that she knew he knew and did not care a hoot. For some reason, this simply amused Andrew rather than angered him.

"Aye, it's most odd. Are ye sure some didnae drop out anywhere?" asked the lass. She held her glowing golden eyes on him. A cloud scurried across the moon, revealing another chink of light. Bathed in silver light, Andrew could see for sure: she was beautiful—not just a little, but a lot.

Her curved, sloping cheekbones seemed feline in the pale moonlight, and there was more than a hint of sass about her. Glancing down, he could see that she was more than adequately tooled up. From within the fabric of her knapsack, he could see the shape of a knife, and at her side, she wore a small but sharp-looking dagger.

For a while, he wondered if she was planning on robbing him. But then, he smiled. She didn't need to.

"Ach, here," said Andrew, fetching about in his sporran to pull out some coins. "Here, ye have this, lassie..."

He handed her a shiny coin. The lass's eyes widened so big they nearly popped out of her head. She looked at him, a little unsure.

"Ye...ye found it?" she asked, a little taken aback.

Andrew watched her, inquiringly. For a moment, he wondered if she was going to refuse it. But she did not.

"Ah, I found it, at the bottom o' the bar on the way out," Andrew lied. He pressed the coin into the palm of her hand. For the briefest moment, his flesh brushed against hers. There, a tingle started in the corner of his arm.

"Och, sorry," he apologized, as the girl jumped. As nervous as a cat, the lass recoiled at the accidental touch, but Andrew noticed she kept the coin safely within the palm of her hand.

Andrew watched her with interest and concern. She had leaped away as if she had been scolded. Something told him to tread carefully with her. Then, he recalled her ordeal with the men at the bar. Deep in her eyes, he read something that told him she was more vulnerable than she wanted to admit.

"Nay," said the girl guardedly. "I mean, dinnae fash." She took the shilling and pocketed it, fastening it up tight in the leather pouch and then reattaching it to her clothing. Then, with a smile, she looked up at Andrew.

"Well, thank ye," she said primly. She made to leave, but as she did, Andrew tugged back at her. Perhaps he shouldn't have done that because she turned around, her eyes like a blazing barn.

"Excuse me," said Andrew, backing off. He did not wish to cause her alarm. "But there's something I forgot to ask ye."

The lass looked at him, her expression a mixture of alarm and disdain. A ripple of wind took her hair, dislodging it from behind her shoulders and blowing it all around. Somehow, this had the effect of making her seem even more fiery.