Page 76 of A Highland Bride Disciplined
Scarlett arched a brow. “Is that an offer, husband?”
“Aye. But only if ye think ye can keep up.”
Her eyes sparkled in the torchlight. “Lead the way, then.”
They danced fast, light-footed, her skirt flaring with every turn. She was better than he’d expected, quick to match his steps, quick to grin when he tried to outpace her. By the time the music ended, her laughter was bright enough to drown out the chill in the air.
Kian found himself almost reluctant to let the moment end. He bent slightly toward her. “Ye’ve a bit of color back,” he said, meaning more than the flush in her cheeks. “Looks good on ye.”
Her smile tilted into something more mischievous. “Careful, Kian. Folk might think ye like me.”
He let out a low laugh. “Folk already think that, Scarlett. Some might even say it’s true.”
She tilted her head, studying him as if trying to decide whether he was jesting. “And what doyesay?”
“That ye’re a damn sight easier to be around when ye’re smilin’ instead of glowerin’.”
Her mock gasp drew a genuine laugh out of him, the sound warming something deep in his chest. “And here I thought ye liked me glower.”
“Oh, I do,” he said, letting his voice drop, “but I like this better.”
Her gaze held his for a beat too long before she looked away, and he caught the faintest twitch of her lips.
When the dancing wound down, he offered his arm. She took it without hesitation, and they began the walk back toward the keep. The air was sharp and crisp, their breath misting in the moonlight.
“Ye’re quiet,” he said after a moment.
“I’m enjoying the peace,” she replied. “It’s rare enough between us.”
“That’s because ye can’t go five minutes without disagreein’ with me.”
She gave him a sidelong look. “And if I stopped, what would ye do with yerself?”
Kian smirked. “Sleep better, for one.”
“And miss the joy of me company? Ye’d wither away from boredom.”
“Mm.” His gaze dropped to the way her hand rested on his arm, fingers curled lightly against his sleeve. “That’s one word for it.”
They traded more barbs, the kind that left no sting, each one another step in a dance as familiar as the reels they’d just spun through. By the time the keep’s torches came into view, Kian realized she was lighter, easier beside him.
Maybe the festival had done her good after all.
Maybe she was starting to feel more herself again.
And he found he liked that far more than he should.
The festival had finally burned itself out, leaving only a few stubborn fiddlers playing for the last of the dancers and the smell of woodsmoke lingering in the air.
Kian walked Scarlett back toward the keep, his stride steady, his palm resting lightly at the small of her back. She hadn’t said much since they’d left the green. Earlier in the evening she’d been flushed from dancing, eyes bright and lips soft with almost-smiles. Now, her gaze was fixed somewhere ahead of them, her expression guarded again.
The moonlight caught the curve of her cheek as she tilted her head slightly away from him. He didn’t like it. Didn’t like seeingthat shadow fall over her again so soon after he’d managed to lift it.
At the door to her chambers, she reached for the latch.
“Nae yet,” he said quietly.
She blinked and turned toward him, brows knitting. “Kian?—”
