“What do ye want from me? Shall I go fetch him, only to have ye tell him to leave later? What’s done is done,” he argued as he led her to the castle doors. “As for the others, I havenae given orders to keep them away. But I can say that I dinnae ken where they are either.”
He noticed the longing in her gaze as her attention drifted to the music and merriment in the courtyard.
“Would ye like to go and search for them? Or I can have the servants do it. For it seems to me that ye would rather spend yer time elsewhere.”
Morgana raised her eyes to his. He hated the fact that there was no place she could look that didn’t showcase the scars on his face.
“I will go where my Laird wants me to go.”
Her response sent heat through his body, igniting his passions and turning his irritation into frustration.
“Is that so?” Ryder murmured.
What kind of woman are ye that ye get under my skin so? Do ye nae see what ye do to me? Och, this willnae stand. I willnae be undone by such a pretty face.
“Ye, Sir, are lookin’ at me as if ye’re about to eat me,” Morgana said breathlessly.
“Maybe that’s exactly what I want to do,” Ryder replied as he corralled her to the shadows and pressed her against the stone wall of the castle.
Morgana let out a whimper as he pressed his palm to the stone wall right behind her slender back.
“Laird McKenzie, people are watchin’ us,” she warned, her voice muffled against his chest.
How small she was. It would be far too easy for Ryder to hoist her over his shoulder and carry her to his chambers.
As he let his desires take hold, fear flickered in her eyes. He recoiled the instant he noticed it. She looked like prey expecting certain death. He pressed his lips into a tight line as his body stiffened. Without a word, Ryder recoiled from her and moved swiftly to the door. He didn’t look back, nor utter a single word as he pulled open the door and disappeared into the darkness.
“Excuse me,” Morgana called after him. “But just where are ye goin’?”
Ryder paused and took a deep breath, trying to suppress his ire and frustration. He rolled his shoulders back and slowly turned to face her. Arching an eyebrow, he moved like a predator.
“What was that?” he asked, the question hissing through his lips.
Morgana’s body trembled as he closed the distance between them, leaving her no place to run.
“I wanted to ken where ye were goin’,” she repeated.
The tremor in her voice rattled him.
“And here ye are, nae even an hour into our marriage and already breakin’ the rules,” Ryder whispered. “What did I tell ye about askin’ questions?”
“I just thought—” Morgana started, but he had had enough.
With his frustration going through the roof and his desire for her wreaking havoc on him, Ryder had to get away. He pressed his finger to her lips, silencing her.
“That’s the first problem—ye thinkin’. It’s just goin’ to lead to all sorts of trouble,” he uttered, trying to keep his voice light. “What ye need to be doin’ is goin’ to bed. It’s late.”
“B-But,” Morgana sputtered as he stepped away.
The delicious aroma of smoked meat and ale hit Ryder the moment he walked into the castle. Yet, not even the lure of such things was enough to brighten his mood.
Something had shifted the second Nathan tried to coerce Morgana into a dance. What had flared inside him to cause such a response?
It was something Ryder had to sort out.
He climbed up the stairs to his chambers, tuning out the sound of the festivities as he tried to understand why the desire to protect Morgana burned so fiercely within him.
I fear the fates have devised a cruel torment for me… and her name is Morgana.