Page 79 of Taken By the Vicious Highlander
“Think,” Ryder continued. “They wanted ye angry. They wanted ye rattled and caught off guard. And look at ye now.” He gestured vaguely toward Damon’s tense frame. “Ye’re givin’ them exactly what they want.”
The words hit him like a slap. Damon’s breath caught.
Damn him.
He hated to admit it, but Ryder was right. His anger, his raw, unbridled fury—it was exactly what the enemy wanted. If he lost control, if he acted recklessly, he would be playing their game.
Who kens me or kens about me well enough to ken that I would react in such a way?
His teeth clenched. His mind shifted, redirecting, focusing.
Control.He needed control.
A slow breath left him, though it did little to quell the rage still simmering beneath his skin. His voice, when he finally spoke, was quieter, but no less lethal.
“We find them,” he said, his voice pure steel. “We find themfirst.”
Ryder nodded once. “Aye.”
“Find out who had access to monkshood within the keep, and then Branloch and Kiel…” Damon instructed, walking over to the chairs in front of the roaring fireplace.
Ryder nodded firmly and then mirrored his movements with an impressively quiet, deadly stealth.
“Security increased. Patrols doubled. The Market Day Festivalmustgo on.”
“Aye,” Ryder said, halting his movements only when Damon finally took a seat. Lifting one of his hands, Damon watched as the man tugged on an invisible rope. “Smith will be in shortly to take care of that hand with Mrs. Bryant, Me Laird. I’ll be on me way. If ye need me, ye ken where I’ll be.”
Stationed outside Lilith’s chambers.
Damon relaxed back into the armchair.
I’ll make him wish he had never been born. Sorry bastard!
20
“The infuriating man had the nerve to smirk at me as if he’d planned for there to be only one room left,” Lilith ranted.
She was finally venting to Ariah about the nights that she and Damon had spent at the inn in Branloch.
Ariah chuckled, but Lilith was too wrapped up in her tirade to notice that her friend swayed slightly on her feet. It wasn’t until Ariah pressed a hand to her temple, wincing, that Lilith finally stopped pacing and watched her as she continued.
“I swear, he finds joy in seein’ me frustrated. He thinks he’s charming, aye, but can ye believe that he was thrilled about it?”
Ariah hummed noncommittally, but Lilith had caught her.
“Are ye sure ye are well?” she pried.
Ariah sighed and waved her off. “Ach! I’m well! Just tired, really. Tell me more about that night, Lil!”
“His eyes…” Lilith started before her memory carried her further away. “His eyes are like twin blades of ice, cuttin’ through me patience every time he looks at me. And dinnae get me started on the fact that he just stands there, all smug and brooding, like some charming, arrogant Highland warrior carved out of bloody stone all the time?—”
The savory scent of dinner wafted from the kitchens and into the Great Hall. Lilith inhaled the lovely aromas before her eyes snapped to Ariah’s when she heard her let out a curdling burp, as if she were about to lose her lunch.
“What on earth, Ari!” She jumped into action, mentally smacking herself for getting lost in thoughts of Damon. The thought of how he made her feel when he was between her thighs.
“Stop fashin’!” Ariah swatted at her hands and stepped away from her, plucking another book off the shelf. “So, things are goin’ well between ye and the Laird, then? He’s treatin’ ye well?” she asked, her brow slightly glistening.
Her voice had been light but tinged with something Lilith couldn’t quite place.
