Page 40 of The Icy Highlander's Virgin
But he didn't let go.
"What do ye want, Lachlan?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"I want many things, wife. But right now, I want ye to get ready. We're goin' fishin'."
Her eyes widened in surprise. "Fishin'? Now? But I?—"
"Now," he said, his voice brooking no argument. "This is one of the three outings ye agreed to. Or have ye forgotten our arrangement?"
He saw her throat work as she swallowed. He let her go, and she took a step backward. "I havenae forgotten. But surely tomorrow would be?—"
"Today." He closed the distance between them. She backed away until her shoulders hit the stone wall, trapped between him and the cold stone. "Get changed into somethin' suitable for ridin'. We leave in twenty minutes."
"Lachlan, I daenae think?—"
"I'm nae askin' what ye think." His voice was quiet, but it carried absolute authority. "I'm tellin' ye what's goin' to happen. Ye'll come with me to the lake, and we'll have the conversation we should have had days ago."
"What conversation?"
He leaned closer, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. Close enough that he could see the pulse fluttering rapidly at her throat.
"The one about what this marriage is going to be," he said softly. "About what I expect from ye as me wife. About what ye're goin' to give me."
Her breath caught, and he saw something flicker in her dark eyes—fear, yes, but something else too. Something that made his blood heat.
"And if I refuse?"
His smile was sharp as a blade. "Then I'll carry ye to the stables meself. But either way, lass, ye're comin' with me."
He straightened, giving her room to breathe but not to escape. "Twenty minutes, Erica. Daenae make me come lookin' for ye."
As he turned to leave, his final words carried a promise that made her shiver.
"Because when I do, we'll be havin' that conversation right here, and I guarantee ye willnae like me methods nearly as much as a peaceful afternoon by the lake."
The words hung in the air like a threat and a promise combined. Erica watched him stride from the solar, his broad shoulders filling the doorway before he disappeared into the corridor. His footsteps echoed on the stone floors, growing fainter until silence settled around her like a heavy cloak.
Who does he think he is?
Fury blazed through her veins, hot and immediate. The arrogance of the man! Ordering her about like she was some servant, grabbing her wrist, threatening to carry her off if she didn't comply. As if she had no say in her own life, no will of her own.
She pressed her hands to her heated cheeks, pacing to the window and back again. Twenty minutes, he'd said. Twenty minutes to get ready or face his "methods" here in this room.
The very idea terrified her. Any reasonable woman would be planning her escape, or at least preparing to barricade the door. But instead...
Instead, her heart was racing with something that felt dangerously close to excitement.
What's wrong with me?
She'd felt the distance between them these past days like a physical ache. She'd told herself it was for the best, that keeping away from him was the smart thing to do. But lying awake at night, listening for his footsteps that never came, eating meals alone while he avoided the great hall... it had left her feeling hollow in a way she didn't want to examine too closely.
And now he was demanding her company, insisting they spend time together, refusing to let her hide any longer.
She should be angry. She was angry. But underneath the fury was something else—a flutter of anticipation that made her stomach tighten with want.
She hurried out of the solar, calling as she walked toward their chambers. "Ada!" she called out to a passing maid, her voice sharper than intended. "Tell Ada, I need her this moment!"
She was in the chambers, fumbling with her dress when the older woman appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath. "What is it, lass? Ye sound?—"
