Page 20 of Brigand

“Why are you so surly?”

Pip was never surly. At least, not to him. But the boydidn’t answer. Naught but a disgusted snort. He turned on his heel and left,slamming the heavy door behind him.

Ewan wasn’t sure why he followed.

He really should stay here in his tiny office. Where hecould avoid the sight of…her. But this little mutiny from Pip pricked hisinterest. He made his way into the hall where the men were having dinner. Pipand Jessie were serving. Of Violet, there was no sign.

Ewan frowned. Where was she? Annoyance flickered in his gut.First because she wasn’t here and then because he hadn’t realized how much hewanted to see her. Just see her.

Had she…?

The door to the kitchens swung open and she appeared,carrying a tray piled with food.

Pleasure and maybe some strange kind of relief warmed hisveins at the sight of her dark hair, her slight form.

That annoyed him as well.

He should be impervious to her presence.

He was not.

Neither was Wolfe. He lifted his head and sniffed the air,then padded to her side and followed her.

The men fell silent as she approached. An odd tension hummedin the air. Alasdair and Mungo, sitting across the table from Craig, frowneddarkly. Violet rounded the table, serving each man a slab of meat with a fork.As she dropped the meat on their plates, the men mumbled their thanks with eyesaverted.

Until she reached Craig.

When she came to him, he grabbed her around the waist andpulled her into his lap. She cried out. The platter went flying. Wolfe leaptforward—but not to gobble down the spilled pork—to growl at Craig. He wasn’tthe only one growling.

Mungo’s chair scraped back loudly. He stood and glowered atCraig, his fingers clenching into hammy fists. Then Drummond and Rory andTavish stood. Lachlan and Bean.

“Let her go.” Mungo’s deep voice bounced off the stonywalls.

Craig laughed. “Fuck you.” He glanced down at Violet, whowriggled on his lap. “Keep squirming, darlin’,” he said. “Something’s rising.”

Oh. Something was rising.

Fury.

Hot, red, blinding fury.

He had his hands on his Violet.

It whipped through Ewan’s veins, pebbled his skin, prickledat his nape. It immobilized him. Which was good. If he so much as moved amuscle, he would rip Craig limb from fucking limb.

He had his hands on his Violet.

He should help her. He knew he should step in and help her.

But he couldn’t.

If he did, it would change things between them. It wouldgive her leverage.

Besides, she was safe from harm here. There were far toomany witnesses for serious mischief.

He forced himself to stay where he was. To rein in theseething desire to yank her from another man’s arms. To play the hero for heronce again.

As much as he wanted to.