Page 17 of A Bride for the Icy Highlander
“Good. That’s what I want,” he replied.
“Let me go.”
“Nay, I never give up what’s mine without a reward. And lass, ye are mine now.”
“I am nae yers, and I will never be yers!” she hissed.
“Oh, but ye are, and I will enjoy provin’ it to ye,” Kian said with a dark smile.
Then, he stood up, knocked back more whiskey, and left the room.
Abigail was left flustered. She grabbed the decanter of whiskey and downed it, hoping to numb the confusion in her mind.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The early morning air was crisp as Kian and Leighton rode along the winding path outside the castle. The sun peeked over the distant hills, casting golden light on the loch below.
Kian’s mind churned with plans and schemes, his jaw set as he glanced toward his man-at-arms. They moved in companionable silence until he finally broke it.
“I’ll send word to Abigail’s sister, Freya, today,” he began, his voice low and steady. “We need that alliance, and we need it fast.”
Leighton shifted uneasily in his saddle, his eyes narrowing. “Ye ken what ye’re askin’ for, Me Laird? Michael and Arthur arenae men to be trifled with. If ye push this, prepare yerself for war.”
Kian’s lips curled into a grim smile. “Aye, I ken. But I’m willin’ to take the risk. Time’s runnin’ out, Leighton. Without an alliance, our folk will either starve or freeze. This is the only way wecan get the supplies we need.” He paused, his eye scanning the distant loch. “This land’s tough enough without us fightin’ amongst ourselves.”
The horses slowed as they neared the loch’s edge, the still water stretching wide and deep, its surface gleaming like glass beneath the rising sun. Mist curled low over it, soft and thick, giving the loch a mystical, almost haunting beauty. Trees lined the shore, their reflections wavering with every gentle ripple. The scent of wet earth filled the air, mingling with the faint cries of distant birds.
Kian dismounted with ease and stepped forward, the chill in the air nipping his skin.
“Let’s take a swim,” he said, pulling off his heavy cloak and letting it drop to the grass.
Leighton chuckled, shedding his own gear with practiced ease.
The two men waded into the chilly water.
Kian felt the cold seeping into his bones, refreshing and sharp. He needed this cold plunge to get rid of the heat he had felt in his body since his supper with Abigail.
There was something fierce about her—her stubborn tongue, the fire in her eyes that matched the heat he felt whenever she was near. Her full curves, the way she moved with strength and defiance, called to him like no other.
She was a thick woman, not a frail lass, and that only made him want her more. Yes, she challenged him at every turn, and that stubborn spirit stirred a hunger deep in his chest.
He’d be a fool to deny how badly he desired her.
He dove under the water in a bid to quell that heat. The cold slowed his thoughts, tamping down the desire and tension that had built.
The loch was deep and clear, the cold water flowing silently over smooth stones and tangled weeds. As he floated on his back, the sun warmed his face, and for a moment, the weight of his burdens eased.
The water held a quiet strength, a reminder that life continued beyond schemes and battles.
“Ye’re thinkin’ too much again, Me Laird,” Leighton remarked, his voice carrying across the still morning.
“Even warriors need moments like this,” Kian grunted.
After some time, they waded out of the loch, water dripping from their hair and skin, the chill giving way to a fresh warmth. Kian wrapped his cloak around himself, staring once more at the horizon, where land met sky.
“This alliance will change everything,” he muttered, his resolve hardening. “It’s the only chance we’ve got.”
Leighton glanced over at him, his brow furrowed. “Ye think the council could come up with a better plan, Me Laird? They’ve got the wisdom of years.”
