Page 11 of The Icy Highlander's Virgin
She tilted her head, studying his face with growing curiosity rather than fear. "Ye really are serious about this."
"Dead serious."
She nodded slowly and took another step closer.
"So what do we do now?" she asked, her voice no longer trembling. "Ye said ye make the rules for these evenings."
"Well," Lachlan said, rising from his chair and moving to a small table near the window, "since we're to spend the evenin' together, we might as well make it interestin'."
He retrieved a deck of well-worn cards, the edges softened by countless games. The firelight cast dancing shadows across the comfortable chairs positioned near the hearth, and wine cups sat waiting on the small table between them. The room felt intimate, cozy even, with tapestries warming the stone walls and thick rugs covering the cold floor.
"Care for a game of cards, wife? Rumor has it I am the best in all of the highlands."
"Cards?" she asked, moving closer as he settled back into his chair.
"Aye, but with a twist." His eyes held a wicked glint as he shuffled the deck with practiced ease. "The loser grants the winner one wish."
Erica's breath caught at the implication, her pulse quickening. "What kind of wish?"
"Anythin' the winner desires," he said, dealing two hands with fluid motions. "Within reason, of course."
Erica raised a brow. "So, if I win I ask ye for half yer lands?"
"Ye are a very ambitious lady, but nay. That is nae within reason."
She hesitated for a moment, then reached up and began removing her mother's jewelry. The silver pins came out of her hair first, allowing the dark waves to fall freely around her shoulders.
Next came the ornate necklace at her throat, then the delicate bracelets at her wrists. Each piece was set carefully on the table, and with each removal, she seemed to relax a fraction more. The formal bride was disappearing, replaced by the woman beneath.
Lachlan followed suit, removing his ceremonial belt with its heavy silver buckle and the ornate brooch that held his plaid inplace. He rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, revealing strong forearms marked with old scars. The room felt warmer, more intimate, with the formality stripped away.
"Are ye willin' to take that risk?" he asked, gesturing to the cards spread between them.
She studied his face for a long moment, noting the challenge in his blue eyes, the slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. There was danger here, but it was the kind of danger that made her heart race rather than her hands shake.
"Aye," she said, picking up her cards. "I am."
The anticipation hung between them like a living thing. What would he ask for if he won? What would she dare request if victory were hers? The possibilities sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the man sitting across from her, watching her with those intense blue eyes.
"Then let the games begin," Lachlan said softly. The intimacy they were sharing carried a promise that made her stomach flutter with excitement.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Ye're quite confident for someone who just agreed to play against a Galloway," Lachlan said, arranging his cards with casual ease.
"Am I?" Erica countered, studying her hand with careful attention. "Perhaps ye're just nae as skilled as ye think."
The teasing note in her voice surprised him. Gone was the trembling, terrified woman from earlier. This was someone completely different—sharp, witty, confident. It was as if the simple act of removing her formal jewelry had stripped away her fears along with the trappings of ceremony.
"Careful, lass," he warned, though he was grinning as he played his first card. "Pride comes before a fall."
"Does it?" She countered his play effortlessly, laying down a card that made him reassess his strategy. "And here I thought it came before victory."
As the game progressed, Lachlan found himself increasingly impressed. Erica didn't just play well—she played brilliantly. Her face remained carefully neutral, but he caught the calculating gleam in her dark eyes as she studied not just her cards, but him.
"Where did ye learn to play like this?" he asked, genuinely curious as she countered another of his moves.
"Ada taught me," she said, discarding with practiced ease. "She said a good card player learns to read people, nae just cards. And people always reveal more than they think they do."
