Page 15 of The Cruel Highlander's Bride
“Actually, might ye take me to me betrothed?” Ciara asked with her most pleasant smile.
Lana sucked in a sharp breath, but Ciara had a lot of words for her future husband. She couldn’t believe he forced her to move into his home immediately and then couldn’t even be bothered to welcome her. Hadn’t he claimed they should get to know one another? Well, she was here… ready to get to know him.
Ciara wasnotused to being ignored, and she wasn’t about to start now. Magnus might very well regret moving her into his home if this was the way he had planned to treat her.
Beneath all that anger was a sense of loneliness driven by the fears that had emerged in the carriage. Some part of her had thought Magnus would be a partner in this wild scheme of theirs, but he was nowhere to be found.
“Aye, I can show ye to his study!” Olivia agreed cheerily, speaking for the first time since they had arrived. “I’m sure Magnus could use a break!”
Elspeth gave Ciara a look that said she knew exactly what she was about to do, but the older woman just nodded and said, “I’ll show yer sister to her rooms, then.”
Lana gave Ciara one last panicked look, but the older woman ushered her along swiftly. Elspeth was as stern as Ciara had expected.
Olivia filled the walk to Magnus’s study with bright chatter about the clan and Magnus. It would have been a good time to try and get some information about her betrothed, but Ciara could not see past the confrontation that was about to take place. Did Magnus truly think this was an acceptable way to treat her? She huffed and continued to follow the lively young woman.
“Here we are,” Olivia sing-songed. But before she had finished speaking, Ciara burst into the study.
Ciara was briefly thrown off balance by the strange man in the room, but she shook off her surprise and addressed him.
“Would ye give us a moment so me and mebetrothed”—she sneered the word—“can have a discussion?” she asked.
“Aye, of course,” the blonde-haired man acquiesced and shuffled Olivia out of the study as well.
Magnus, of course, looked completely unruffled by the interruption. He sat behind a large mahogany desk, with his hands clasped loosely in front of him. He raised a thick dark eyebrow at her, and Ciara felt the censure in that one movement.
“Well, I’ve arrived,” she said haughtily, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn’t miss the way Magnus’s eyes zeroed in on that movement.
“I can see that,” was his droll reply.
“Aye, well ye wouldnae have kenned if I had just followed yer maither to me rooms like I was supposed to.”
“Someone would have informed me ye’d arrived, I’m sure,” Magnus replied. His indifference was really starting to grate on her nerves.
“I packed up me entire life and moved here like ye demanded, and in return, I expect a certain level of respect and politeness from me betrothed! Which I would think includes greeting me at me new home!” Ciara snapped.
She wished she could feign the same cool indifference that Magnus wore, but that just wasn’t the type of woman Ciara was. She was bold and brash, and when she had something to say, she said it.
“What do ye want, lass?” Magnus asked as he rose from his desk.
She was struck again by the size of him, all those glorious muscles. Ciara couldn’t help the way her eyes followed him as he stepped around the desk and came to stand right in front of her.
What do I want?
She did not know, so she just shook her head. She had merely reacted when Magnus was not present at the gates. She had hated the way his family looked at her with some semblance of pity, and the way Lana had celebrated his absence. So, she had carried those feelings right to Magnus’s door. He had created these feelings, and he would answer for them.
But with Magnus standing so close to her, nothing was clear anymore. His woodsy scent was filling her nose and muddling her mind. And the predatory way he watched her was giving her all sorts of ideas. Mainly ones where he backed her up against the wall and took her lips in a harsh kiss.
She was supposed to be angry, damn it!
Ciara tried to get her mind back on track, but then he spoke again in that deep voice full of promise.
“What would be a suitable greeting for me betrothed?” he asked in a whisper that sent shivers through Ciara. “Maybe a welcome kiss?”
* * *
Magnus watched with interest as Ciara’s eyes dropped to his lips at the mention of a kiss. From the moment she’d barged into his office—hell, since he met her—he had been imagining how those soft lips might feel against his own.
Her lips were equally appealing when they were pursed in anger, as they were right now. Those lips let out a few short, ragged breaths.
