Page 12 of Wedded to the Heartless Highlander
Her eyes swept over the crowd as she swallowed hard, trying to focus on staying upright.
Laird MacKinnon took a miniscule step sideways and extended his arm behind her, steadying her.
Erica plastered a perfect, seemingly excited smile on her face as her mother’s voice rang out. “It’s a fine match, indeed. James Morris has proven himself an honorable opponent, but Laird MacKinnon has proven himself the worthy victor. We are honored by this union!”
The guests erupted in another round of applause before they started dispersing. Erica barely heard their murmurs, her mind reeling with the knowledge of what awaited her.
This isnae a game—This is me life… and it’s just been decided with one measly pull of a rope? He didnae even fight hard. I wasnae worth the effort for him.
Before she could make sense of it all, Laird MacKinnon turned away, leaving her standing in the middle of the crowd.
Her mother approached, resting a hand on her shoulder, a silent gesture for her to join the toast that Thomas and her father would make.
“I need some air, Ma,” Erica said through gritted teeth.
Lady McFair simply nodded and motioned for her to escape to the gardens.
Grateful for the lack of argument, Erica slipped away.
As she navigated the large bushes, the world melted away, and she reveled in the silence. Large blooms swayed rhythmically in the warm breeze, and she let her hand graze them as she passed them slowly. Her favorite bench was situated on the far side of the garden behind the hedges, and as she headed in that direction, she let herself relax.
“I see ye managed to escape the crowd,” a familiar voice suddenly drawled behind her.
She spun around to find none other than Laird MacKinnon sprawled behind the hedges she had just passed by, propped up on his elbows. His shirt was off and balled up next to him, his eyes closed and his face tilted up toward the sun.
“Och!” Her hand flew up to her traitorous, racing heart.
The sight of him shook her to her core. The mountains of muscle flexed and relaxed as his body rocked from side to side, his eyes still closed and his feet tapping on the ground.
“What are ye doin’ here?”
“I wanted to soak up the last few minutes I have to meself before we get married, but here ye are, already disturbin’ me peace,” he said lazily.
“Disturbin’yerpeace?” Her tone was more accusatory than she had intended.
“Aye. Quit yer barkin’, lass. It’s just us, there is nay need to shout. I can hear ye just fine.”
“I’msorry,am I annoyin’ ye?” she asked facetiously.
He grinned before opening one eye and then the other. Erica watched as his gray orbs trailed up the hem of her dress that was touching his leg, her torso, her collarbone, her neck, pausing on her lips for a moment before they finally landed on her blazing eyes.
“Ye ken ye are. Now, keep quiet while ye still can,” he said before closing his eyes again.
“Is that a threat?”
As if he knew she was going to ask that, Laird MacKinnon took a long, deep breath before exhaling and answering her slowly, “Nay, ye would ken it if I threatened ye.”
“Och, ye must feel proud of yerself,” she huffed indignantly, putting her hands on her hips.
He chuckled softly and looked down at her. “Proud? Nay, but ye would be wise to remember that I’m a man who keeps his promises,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief.
Erica balled her fists—she could feel the fire rising inside her. “Promises? What promise could ye possibly make that would matter to me?”
Laird MacKinnon looked at her intently. An emotion that she couldn’t place flickered in his eyes, and for a fleeting moment, she felt as though he was looking right past her defenses.
“Think what ye wish. It makes nay difference to me. Tomorrow, ye will be me wife.”
“I willnae make it easy for ye,” Erica warned, her voice shaking but defiant.
