Page 17 of Marry the Highland Villain
“I have my reasons.”
“I ken that, too. Doesnae mean I wish to have my future husband confinin’ me to a building like a prisoner.”
Conall huffed. “I said I’d give ye everything ye need—food, clothing, yer own quarters, and freedom to roam the grounds. I’m nae so kind to my actual prisoners.”
“Care of my general needs doesnae make me any less of a prisoner.” Her gaze was steady and compelling.
Conall felt his stomach tighten, heat rising in his blood.
“Then let me give ye something I’d never give to any prisoner within my walls.”
He took two steps forward, cupped her chin in one hand with as much gentleness as he was capable of, and kissed her.
One moment Conall was looming over her, his voice a low snarl of anger, the next one hand cupped her chin, firm but gentle, and he was kissing her, his lips claiming hers in a manner that suggested she was a cup of water and he a man dying of thirst.
The scent of leather and smoke enveloped her, the heat of his body wrapping around her like a warm blanket after being caught in a winter storm. Brigid gasped, and the taste of heather mead filled her mouth.
It was terrifying. And it was intoxicating. She’d never even considered being kissed by anyone, let alone a man like Conall Barr.
She found herself clutching at his arms, her knees weak as his hands slid to her shoulders, then her waist, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss until she could hardly think.
Through the layers of clothing that separated them, she felt something hard pressing against her belly. She could guesswhat it was—she’d heard stories in the village, and sometimes from Valerie—and heat pooled in her chest, then lower still, the unfamiliar sensations destroying any anger and indeed, any thoughts she might still harbor.
Conall’s tongue traced the seam of her lips, teasing, tasting, and she melted just a little bit more, her stomach fluttering as if butterflies had taken flight inside it.
Part of her wanted to pull back and slap him for daring to kiss her when they’d not even spent a candlemark in each other’s presence.
Another part of her, however, wanted to melt into his arms and enjoy the first taste of acceptance—of desire—that she’d ever experienced.
She leaned into him, struggling with these unfamiliar feelings, until they were suddenly interrupted by a loud knock on the door.
Brigid dropped her arms to her sides and pulled back, her heart racing and her mind dazed, as the door opened to reveal the man she’d seen in the Great Hall with Conall when she arrived. His eyes were dark with anger, which cooled her blood as quickly as a bucket of ice water.
Conall’s expression was so stern that his face might have been carved from stone.
“Oliver. What brings ye here?”
“Ye left dinner abruptly. I was concerned, especially whenshefollowed ye.”
The words were harsh, and the younger man—he must be Conall’s brother and Emily’s husband—gave Brigid a look that cut her like a blade.
“Nothing to be concerned about. My future wife wanted to speak to me about havin’ her sisters at the wedding.”
Conall’s voice was as stern as his expression, and Brigid swallowed, her earlier trepidation returning.
“Aye. I can tell ye were discussin’ the matter with the lass. The same way ye discussed a winter night with a willing tavern maid.”
The words hit Brigid like a slap in the face. It wasn’t just the accusation, but it was the realization of how she must have appeared to Oliver.
Her face burned with sudden mortification that he might think she was a wanton woman.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
Conall, however, stiffened, his face darkening with fury. “Watch yer mouth, Brother. Brigid is my betrothed.”
“For all ye ken about her, that’s nae sayin’ much. ’Tis a marriage made for spite andpeace.” Oliver spat the word. “An’ with a man like Holdenson, there’s as little promise to the virtue of the lass as there is to the peace.”
Brigid felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach. She was used to being insulted, hated, and shamed for the actions of her family, but this attack was far harsher and cut more deeply than she’d expected. She flinched away from the cruel words.
