Page 49 of Married to the Icy Highlander
“He will learn to be happy there, in time. I dinnae think he would be overly fond of any job that requires hard labor.”
“He has a soft heart,” Emily agreed.
“But in the best way possible,” Freya chimed in.
Ceana nodded. “If only we could leave the distillery to his cat, Myrtle. I ken that beastie would get things done quickly. Nay ship would be run tighter if he had a say on the matter!”
The three of them laughed, and soon the dinner bell rang.
“Shall we?” Ceana asked.
Her friends nodded.
Freya attempted to get up, but her stomach restricted her movements.
“I am fine when I’m standin’, ye ken? It’s just the gettin’ up and down that is challengin’,” she huffed as her friends each took one of her arms and helped her up.
Emily grinned. “And it doesnae get easier.”
“Och, joy,” Freya groaned.
“Just ye wait,” Emily teased, nudging Ceana with her shoulder. “Soon it will be ye we are helpin’ up.”
Ceana laughed at the joke. It wasn’t as if Neil hadn’t been explicitly clear about what he expected from her. He wanted her to carry his heir, but somehow it was Emily’s comment that made the situation all too real for her.
Soon, she would be the one with the rounded belly. Soon, she would be the one decorating a nursery and picking out names… She was going to have Neil’s son.
Provided, of course, that he ever got around to actually touching her.
22
If Neil didn’t stop looking at her every few moments, she was certain that she would go insane. One course started to blend into the other as her hunger for food was rapidly turning into a hunger for something else entirely.
She clenched her thighs together, trying to forget the feel of his length pressed against her sex because she was supposed to still be cross with him. He hadn’t apologized, he hadn’t explained, and he seemed to have absolutely no intention of doing either. All the more reason to stay angry with him.
And yet…
His hand fell to his lap, sliding under the table until he could graze the outside of her thigh, and she nearly choked on the wine she was sipping. It took her a full moment to swat his hand away, and the cocky bastard actually had the nerve to laugh at her.
She was about to slap his thigh for good measure when he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear as he spoke, “Our carriage… in ten minutes.”
It was as if her mind had suddenly gone blank and she was no longer able to think or process information. Her mouth was uncomfortably dry as she asked, “What does that mean?”
Neil smirked and finished off his whiskey. “Have ye forgotten me rule already, wife of mine?”
Damn her for blushing. She wanted to hide her face away so that he wouldn’t know how quickly his words affected her, but it was useless. She could try and deny it, hide it all she liked, but the damage was already done.
He pushed away from the table and muttered something to Arthur that she couldn’t hear before excusing himself.
Ceana could no longer see the room around her. The dull roar of conversation and the clinking of cutlery faded away into nothing. All she could focus on was counting down the minutes in her head. Ten minutes, he said.
She was a fool for feeling excited.
She ought to make him wait, or she should just not go at all. But that would be more of a punishment for herself at this rate than it would be for him, and she knew it. She had no reason to beso excited when he was likely just going to get her all worked up and then leave her high and dry.
And yet the minute her ten-minute count was up, she pushed away from the table and headed out of the hall. She didn’t care who saw her or how rude they must have thought she was. She practically ran toward the line of carriages and only stopped when she knew that her footsteps would be heard. She had enough self-respect not to seem too eager. At least, she was trying not to.
She lifted her hand to knock on the carriage door, and felt foolish. Why would she knock on her own carriage?
