"Enough, lass. Let me go."

"Not until you let me go." She stood her ground, or rather knelt on it. She expected him to pull free without effort.

His gaze darted down to their joined hands. "I can't do that."

"Then I won't let you go." It appalled her that she spoke to this handsome, broad-shouldered man like a child, but anyone who believed he was a leprechaun had to be treated with simple, gentle discipline.

She guessed the stalemate would last a few moments more and then he would release her. She would let him have his gold. Perhaps he could give her a few pieces to buy her freedom from drudgery.

He held fast.

Kate shifted, settling into a more comfortable position, a silent indication that she planned to outwait him. She might as well; she couldn't hear the children calling for her any more, so that meant they had gone off to cause other mischief. If she were lucky, they may have gone to fetch help, and then someone could take this poor fellow to an asylum.

She sighed. What a waste. He was a gorgeous figure of a man—lithe and strong, his muscles bunching with tension beneath his tight shirt and moss-green leggings. He had eschewed modern dress for some reason. Bare of linen, his throat seemed oddly vulnerable. He crouched, his groin invisible in shadow.

"Lass." Her captor quirked an eyebrow upwards. "If ye like what ye see, mayhap we may seal a bargain."

The sudden heat on her cheeks warned her that they had gone the color of bricks. "I am not sure I like the sound of a bargain."

His unbearably green eyes danced. " 'Tis simple, lass. Take yer pick: me pot of gold, or one eve of indescribable pleasure from me."