Page 40 of The Highlander's Fake Wife
Another beat of silence.
“Oh, Arthur…”
He cleared his throat loudly and went on. “Sasha thought me impairment was the best way to call off the wedding and avoid war between our clans. Proclaimed ‘twas unfair to be promised off to damaged goods, and both sides had suffered enough at each other’s hand. Smart as a whip, that one, though her acting was a bit too realistic at times.” The door thumped loudly, Arthur seemingly pressing his back against it. “I always hoped she found a good lad. Not her fault me uncles were a rotten bunch.”
Olivia sat with the information for a long moment, mind spinning at such a jarring revelation.
“I dinnae tell ye all this fer ye to feel bad for me,” Arthur clarified. “I did it to honor yer own bravery tonight. All those things ye said to yer maither…they meant a great deal to me. Ye bared yer soul, and I felt like it needed to be repaid.”
Olivia shifted uncomfortably, a dry humor coating her voice as she spoke next. “Suppose ‘tis nice to know me fake betrothed was betrothed before.”
“Ye ken any word outside o’betrothed, selkie?”
That got a little laughter out of Olivia, and the pair shared a briefly light moment together. But it died away soon enough, and another heavy sigh escaped from Arthur.
“Sasha…made me consider so much about me life after that. How close I was to losing it, what I’d leave behind in its wake. I swore to firmly uphold me faither’s views on lairdship–to dedicate my life to protecting my clan without compromising me own ideals. I wouldnae cower beneath the easy and safe ways o’arranged marriages; I and me strength alone would be all me people needed.”
Olivia's heart fluttered, and she couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the laird. “I…cannae imagine I’d react any other way.”
“So, ye have to understand, Olivia,” Arthur said. “We cannae make this betrothel real. Not ‘cause I daenae want to, but because if I did…”
Olivia’s curiosity was piqued. “If ye did, m’laird…?”
Arthur seemed to genuinely struggle with what he wanted to admit. “If I did…I wouldnae be able to abide by me ideals. Nor would I be able to abide by yer one an’ only rule.”
Olivia blinked, somewhat taken aback. “M-My rule?”
“Ye drive me crazy, selkie. Just like the stories, ye washed upon me beach a beauty beneath the sun and stole away me common sense.”
He pulled her out of a frozen tarn at midnight, but Olivia kept that remark to herself.
“Ye’ve bewitched me completely, and I’ve wanted nothing more than to keep ye by my side. Steal yer pelt so ye never leave this lonely keep o’mine.” Another loud exhale. A gentle thump against the door; Olivia could only imagine Arthur’s forehead pressing against it, desperate to close the distance between them. The once-present chill in the air slowly receded, a warm flush spreading across her face and down the length of her body before pooling in her middle.
“I couldnae sleep, kenning ye were upset with me,” Arthur admitted. “I didnae say anything I wanted to, and…and I daenae think I’ve even said it all just yet. But I need ye to ken, here and now, how ye’ve taken me, selkie. How I long to touch more than just yer hair, to completely take in the ocean’s scent off ye body. Ye’ve only been here a handful of days, and yet, ye seem as if ye’ve lived here forever.”
Olivia’s grasp around her legs weakened, her hand brushing against the braids he’d worked so hard on.
“And if ye ken how badly I wanted to kiss ye this evening. Take ye in my arms and…and…”
Olivia swallowed heavily, her hand rubbing the back of her neck as heat pricked beneath it. “And…what, m’laird?”
A heavy silence sat between them, and Olivia could feel her legs begin to tingle, her heart thump loudly against her chest. Thatwarmth in her center had begun to inch out across her body, with Arthur’s words acting as motivation for it to spread further. She needed to hear his words–Olivia desperately needed him to continue.
Finally, spoke once more, a note of mischief in his tone. “Well…I cannae show ye meself. But, if ye would let me words guide yer actions…?”
“P-please,” Olivia’s voice trembled terribly. “Tell me what ye’d do.”
The smirk in his voice settled into something more sensual. Something that danced across Olivia’s skin and pulled a shudder from deep within. “I’d kiss ye. On yer cheek; to make sure ye wanted what I was offering.”
A flush of warmth covered Olivia’s face, her hand gently pressing against her cheek. “And then?”
“If ye liked that…I would slip my hands around yer waist, lass.”
Olivia obeyed, her hands following the curves of her body, suddenly feeling a bit lightheaded.
“And if ye were fine with that, I’d take it a step further.”
Further?
