Page 9 of The Highlander's Inconvenient Wife
Excitement rushed through her veins at the thought of his fingers against her skin.
Clearing his throat, he looked to the side. “Gregg will show ye to yer room,” he said. “But ye are nae to leave without permission. Dae ye understand?”
Joan rolled her eyes at the stubborn way he was sticking to his ideas and control. His mother believed her story to be true, so why couldn’t he?
“I said,” he took a step forward again and cupped her chin in his hand, gently guiding her face toward his when she failed to respond, “dae ye understand?”
“Yes,” she said irritably, holding his gaze and matching his energy with every ounce of courage she could muster, “I understand, my laird.”
“Good lass,” he smirked at her as his face drew nearer.
Joan’s heart galloped at a fierce pace as the heat from his breath tickled her skin.
Leaning in close, he placed his lips inches away from her ear. “Ye dinnae want to get on me bad side, lass.” He drew away from her again and examined her face as if he were trying to see her reaction.
“Do you have a good side then, my laird?” she asked defiantly. “I shudder to think what your bad side is if you’ve been displaying your pleasant side up until now.”
Joan swore he was trying to suppress a smile as he looked her in the eyes, but he quickly cleared his throat and turned his head to the side.
“Gregg!” he yelled down the empty corridor in a booming voice that filled the air, sending a wave of bumps over her arms.
The sound wasn’t all too unpleasant to her, she realized as she listened to the deep timber in his voice that was ever present, even when he yelled.
As if he had been taking a nap, Gregg came running down the hall at breakneck speed with his belly wobbling in front of him. His thick red hair was matted at the back and sticking out on the sides, suggesting that he had been leaning his head against a hard object such as a wall. “Aye, me laird!” he huffed as he struggled to catch his breath at the cell door. His puffy cheeks were flushed red from his efforts.
“Show the lady to her chambers, stand guard by her door day and night, and dinnae allow her to leave unless ye are with her or I have given me permission,” he barked orders at the man who took things in his stride.
“Aye, me laird!” he shouted louder than was necessary and saluted with his hand raised to his brow.
“We shall talk again, me lady.” Jasper narrowed his eyes at her with a dark look. “Remember me rules; dinnae leave yer room on yer own. The consequences of ye rejecting instructions could be…very dire for ye…” His voice trailed off in an ominous tone.
“Yes, my laird, you are in charge.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. The man got under her skin and worked on her nerves in a very annoying manner. It was safe to say that a lasting friendship wasn’t in the works.
Gregg seemed shocked at the way she spoke to his laird as he looked at her with a wide-eyed expression before remembering his place and looking at the wall once again as he attempted a perfectly straight posture which was hard given the fact that he built like a pregnant ox.
The silence rang in her ears as Joan waited for the laird’s response. It was in moments like these that she was sure she should have followed her mother’s advice. Now, she wished she had been less sarcastic and more obedient. She wasn’t sure if the slight tilt of his mouth meant that he was amused or if he wanted to teach her a lesson.
“See the lady to her room and stand guard,” Jasper barked at Gregg again as he left the cell, making his way down the hall before disappearing around a corner.
I guess I’ll find out later…
She watched the laird retreat before turning back to the guard. “Shall we get going then?” she asked the guard while clasping her hands in front of her chest. “What was your name again? Gregg, was it not? I’m given to understand that there’s a hot bath awaiting me upstairs. We wouldn’t want the water to get cold, not after Martha has taken the time and effort to ensure my comfort.” She laid it on thick as she watched a vein pop in his jaw.
“Martha?” he asked her almost angrily as if she had the audacity to use the woman’s given name.
“Yes, Martha,’” she said cheerfully. “The laird’s mother insisted that I call her by name.”
The man seemed as if he wanted to say something to her, but he quickly cleared his throat after spluttering on his words. “Aye, I will show ye to yer chambers,” he said reluctantly and began to leave.
“My lady,” she added for him.
“Sorry?” he turned to glare at her over his pudgy nose.
“You heard your laird referring to me as my lady; do you not think you should be doing the same?” She pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side as she waited for his response. Vengeance was indeed sweet after the way they had treated her earlier.
“Aye, right this way, me lady,” he said reluctantly with a mock bow.
“That’s better,” Joan nodded as she followed the man.
