Page 8 of Captured By the Highland Devil
He held her left wrist tightly and pulled her in like a fish on a line. He growled, “Were ye flirtin’ with him on purpose?”
“N-nay,” she stammered. “I would never do such a thing.”
She was keenly aware of the strength of her husband’s hands and the warmth of his gaze. Though his hold barely touched her, the fire that raced up her wrist made her shiver, hot and cold at the same time.
His breath brushed her ear in a low growl. “Remember who ye belong to now.”
Paige lifted her chin. “I will never belong to ye.”
She was breathless as the tune wound to a close, and he spun her into his arms when the music began again. He reached over and took her hand in his. “We’ll see about that.”
A man with a bone whistle joined the harpist as they leaped and spun, stamped their feet and clapped their hands. Despite him saying he did not dance much, Ruben was a magnificent dancer. He did not show any weariness, his breath still steady as he finished the leaping, whirling dance. His broad, well-muscled chest was rising and falling as easily as if he’d taken a walk instead.
The blaze of the fires around the room made his skin gleam like burnished bronze. In the golden haze in the room, he lookedgloriously divine, Lugh reincarnated. A blush swept up her neck, staining her cheeks and her heart thundered.
He danced with an intensity she always felt from him since she’s met him. She had thought he wanted nothing to do with her—but then he’d become so possessive and protective of her, it made her head spin.
What does this man want?
While catching her breath, she saw other men hesitant in approaching her. She wondered why, until she caught sight of her husband’s stern eye trained on them. When the men did approach her, it was to give them their best wishes and kiss the back of her hand. Certainly, no more dances.
Was it too early for her to suppose he did not want her but did not want anyone else to come near her either?
Think of it as a man’s perspective, a proud Scot’s perspective. Hecould nae let anyone disrespect his new wife and do nothin’ about it.
They danced another three times before Paige had to cry exhaustion and that she needed to rest.
Steering her away from the dancers, he said, “Yer faither has arranged for a marital bedroom for us—” Paige felt every drop of blood drain from her face. Ruben slid an eye to her. “—but I will nae be using it as intended. Nae here, nae now.”
“Meanin’—” she swallowed, “—ye will be usin’ another bed?”
“Aye,” he said as they left the main hall. The sudden quiet jarred her. “But at me home.”
The thought of being intimate with the man she despised made her tremble deep down inside. Her face must have shown her fear as the brute chuckled. “Drop yer shoulders lass, I never touch unwillin’ women.”
“Ye will never touch me,” she promised him.
His hand caged her chin again while a wicked emotion danced in his eyes. “I am sure I can change yer mind in a sennight.”
She pulled away, half-repulsed, half-fearful. “I will never let ye.”
With those words, she fled to her rooms and even though he did not chase after her, she slammed the door close and shot the bolt in place. Trembling, she backed away from the doorway until her back met the other wall.
Overwhelmed, she sunk to the floor, trembling. Frantic, her eyes darted to the window, and she lurched up to fling the window open. The rain had petered off and though it was pitch dark, she could see the wet ground.
Did she dare escape? It would be so easy to knot her bedsheets into a rope, clamber down and run. But to where and with what?
She stepped away, her head shaking. “A coward’s way out. And the king would probably send men to hunt me down, to boot.”
Her eyes dropped to the packed trunks at her door waiting to be transferred to a wagon or a carriage. Over a chair to her left, was a thick woolen travelling dress, ready for the journey on the morrow.
“Chin up,” she reminded herself. “Of all the times to be strong, ye’ve never needed strength like this before.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The pre-dawn mist was still heavy on the ground as the sun began to rise over the hills to the east. Ruben was ready and impatient to get on with the journey ahead.
He pressed a hand to his warhorse’s neck. “Calm, Goliath.” Turning to the broad set of doors behind him, Ruben scowled, “God almighty, how long does it take one lass to rise and dress?”
