Page 20 of The Highlander's Auctioned Bride
James sat at his desk in his study with a large glass of whisky in his hand, staring at the fire. He was half-dressed, having shed the formal clothing he had been forced to wear all-day; his léine hung loose as he sat slumped in his chair.
He was trying unsuccessfully to quiet his clamoring mind, his thoughts going in every direction at once. He knew he had hundreds of things to attend to for the clan, and that should have been his focus. Yet his mind was dragged back to Maisie more often than not. He wondered how she was feeling. What she was doing at that moment.
He knew that half his council thought him mad for his choice, but there had been no doubt in his mind who to pick.
He threw back his whisky and poured himself another just as there was a hesitant knock on the door. He looked at the clock in surprise. It was after midnight; it could only be his man-at-arms at this hour.
“Yes!” he shouted, irritated at the interruption. The irritation swiftly turned to shock as his housekeeper opened the door, only to reveal Maisie behind her, her blue eyes meeting his urgently.
He scowled. “Is it important, Mrs. Murray?”
Before the housekeeper could say a word, the hellion woman had barged inside, her hands on her hips. Her slim waist was accentuated by the dark green dress she still wore, her hair falling against her shoulders in soft curls.
James gave Mrs. Murray an exasperated glance and then shooed her away. The woman took an age closing the door, as though uncertain whether to leave her charge alone with him.
“Was there somethin’ ye wanted?” he growled, taking another large gulp of whisky.
“Why, are ye particularly occupied at this present minute?” she asked — and well she might. He was in a state of undress; his boots kicked off and beside the fire.
“What is it, woman?” he asked, forcing himself to remain seated even though he was desperate to get close to her again. Herlips were puckered together disapprovingly, and he entertained himself by thinking up ways to make them pliant toward him.
He certainly seemed to have a talent for infuriating her. It was a shame he found her temper so captivating, or he might have been inclined to stop.
He relished the idea of being the only man who could soothe her ire. He could bank up her temper until she was spitting fire and then know just the words and touches that would pacify her.
“We didnae speak,” she said irritably. “After ye made yerannouncement,I havenae seen hide nor hair of ye, and I think we should agree on some terms before we embark on this farce of a marriage.”
“Is that right?” he asked.
“Yes. It is. And I have some conditions.”
James almost laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been spoken down to by someone half his height.
“Dae ye indeed?” he said, leaning deliberately back in his chair and watching her eyes grow wide, following the line of his léine down to the top of his kilt. He let his legs fall open suggestively as he took another sip of his drink. “By all means, tell me what they are.”
Her eyes were glued to the hem of his kilt. It had ridden up and was resting just above his knees. He watched her throat constrict as she swallowed, and arousal began the slow, pleasant burn down his spine.
“Ye wanted a marriage of convenience, and that is what ye shall have, m’laird.”
“Is that what I wanted, lass?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. He watched her shudder with a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Aye, it is.”
“And what makes ye so sure?”
“Nae man chooses a wife the way ye did.”
“The wayme councildid, lass, if I had my way I wouldnae have a wife at all.”
A blush suffused her cheeks. She looked horrified.
“Well, then we shouldnae wed at all if ye didnae even want me.”
He snorted, the whisky warming his blood. “That isnae what I said. I said I didnae want awife.”He let his eyes run down to her toes and back up to her outraged expression. “I didnae say a thing about nae wantin’ye.”
She scoffed. “This marriage is a business deal. Yer council is satisfied, and so are yer people.”
It seemed the only person who isnae satisfied right now is me. By God, the woman is magnificent when she’s ragin’.
