Page 20 of Wedded to the Heartless Highlander
Erica let out a laugh, the sound almost strained in her attempt to keep the conversation going.
He had so much to say the last couple of nights—where is that man?
“Would ye believe it, Lair?—”
“Hunter,” he said quickly, anger flashing across his ashen features.
“I—What?”
“I willnae tell ye again. Ye ken me name. Use it.”
“Och, aye,” she muttered, dragging out the last word until she ran out of breath. “Ye ken, I think ye might actually be the most talkative man I’ve ever met! Who would have kenned ye’d win that prize too,Hunter?”
A flicker of amusement passed over Hunter’s face, but he did not reply. Erica caught it, though, and her own smile widened.
So, he can react—he is just keepin’ himself wrapped up tighter than an iron trap. But why?
She tried again. “Do ye have any preferences? Hobbies, favorite foods, a favorite flower?” She leaned forward as if she’d uncovered a grand secret. “Or are ye as silent about yer tastes as ye are about yer castle?”
Hunter’s gaze shifted to her, and this time, he didn’t look away. His steely gray eyes held hers, assessing, almost unsettlingly intense. “If I have preferences, Lady MacKinnon,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth as the velvety night sky, “I’d rather ye discover them for yerself.”
The way he looked at her as he called her ‘Lady MacKinnon’, steady and unblinking, sent a shiver down her spine, and she straightened. His words most certainly held a double meaning, and he had left it to her to interpret them.
She’d intended for her question to be teasing, but the way he’d answered—so direct, so unyielding—sent a wild pulse through her veins. Erica was sure Hunter had seen how her body had responded because she saw the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips before he turned to the window once more.
Just like he said last night, I need to be more careful with me words?—
“Aye, well, I suppose that would make things more… interestin’,” she forced herself to continue, aiming for a nonchalant tone, but her heart raced and butterflies fluttered in her stomach.
5
“Favorite flowers?” Hunter said, giving her a reprieve from the fire that still burned under her porcelain skin, stoked by his last comment.
“Och, aye, everyone has them.” Erica tapped a finger on her chin. “For example, I prefer roses. And if ye think that is too typical, I can give ye a list of all the reasons why I think they are superior flowers.”
Ach, Christ… I cannae deal with this.
“Nay,” Hunter muttered.
To his chagrin, Erica broke the brief silence that ensued.
“So, are ye always so quiet then? Or am I just special?”
Hunter allowed himself the slightest smile. “Perhaps it’s a sign that I’m enjoyin’ the silence,” he said, though the challenge in her posture had him holding her eyes just a moment longer than he had intended.
She scoffed, feigning offense. “Enjoyin’ the silence… aye, very romantic,” she mumbled, but her tone was almost playful, as though she was testing his restraint—and patience.
She leaned forward again, and his eyes followed hers as they lit up with curiosity and mischief.
Interesting…
He watched her clench her jaw with determination. Then, his eyes fell just slightly to trail down her long neck and her now slightly exposed breasts, before trailing back up to meet her icy stare. He raised his eyebrows in anticipation of what she was about to say.
Is she goin’ to say anythin’, or is she just goin’ to?—
Erica tilted her head to the side, letting the sun bathe the side of her face and neck. The light cast shadows over the delicious lines of her body before she finally asked, “What would it take for ye to talk? Or have I married a ghost?”
Hunter felt the heat of her stare intensify as she studied him with the boldness he had been waiting for. “What if ye have?”
