Page 26 of Dark Side of the Laird
“Yes,” I nodded, relieved that he was going to speak with the king so soon, but wondering at his sudden urgency.
“The thing is… I canna take Lady Isabella with me.” He frowned and looked off into the shadows, dark thoughts swirling in his eyes. “If I were to bring her, it only gives the king the upper hand to force me into marriage on the spot.”
“Then you must leave her here.”
Logan’s scowl was black and bitter. The interview with her must not have gone well at all. “I dinna want to do that either.”
“Do you have another choice?”
His jaw tightened, ticking in a rhythmic pattern. I wanted to reach out, to stroke that erratic muscle and tell him that all would be well, that the king would see the error of his ways, but I had no way of knowing myself, and so the words, so confident in my own ears, couldn’t find their way to my lips.
“I will leave my men with strict instructions that the castle is to be on lockdown,” he said firmly.
I nodded. “What does lockdown mean?”
“No one leaves. No one comes.”
“That’s what I figured. How long will you be gone?”
He shook his head. “I know not. The king has gone to Falkland Palace. If the weather cooperates, we could be there in three days, just on his heels. If not, could be as long as a week to reach it.”
“A week there and a week back, and how long to speak with the king.” Already I was dreading the time he’d be away.
“He will see me right away. I could be there for two days, three at the maximum.”
I cringed at his timeline. “So three weeks at the most?”
“Aye, but will likely be less.”
He appeared so cold. So hard. There was something wrong, I could feel it in my bones.
“What happened?” I asked softly.
He jerked his gaze back to me, eyes scrutinizing as he searched my face.
“What makes ye think there is something wrong?”
I shrugged. “I can tell. You are…” I looked at him, so stiff and straight, intense and awkward. “You’re not yourself.” Not even the man I’d first met who was extremely cautious around me. This man was suffering greatly.
“’Tis nothing. I simply must seek out the king and straighten out this farce. We canna have Isabella here. I canna marry her. ’Tis preposterous.”
It did not go unnoticed by me that he didn’t lament about how he wanted to marry me. That he loved me. I could see his anger, a fury so intense it darkened his eyes to black. The man was possessed by it, and I tried not to take offense at his lack of sentimentality. After all, he was a warrior. I’d known that the moment, I met him. But I’d also seen the softer side. Been inside his heart and heard him declare his love and passion for me. But this man before me now was a man disturbed.
A man on a mission.
A man spurred on by something that greatly troubled him.
What had Isabella done?
Call it woman’s intuition, or just gut instinct. “Are you sure that’s all?”
He glowered down at me. “I’m positive.”
I forced myself to stand where I was, and not to take a step backward. Suddenly all of his intensity was pointing toward me, and my stomach did a little flip.
Logan reached up and grabbed hold of my face with one hand. A thumb on one side of my chin and his fingers on the other. He tugged me forward, his lips crashing on mine in a brutal, forceful kiss.
“Ye’re mine,” he growled, his teeth pulling at my lower lip. “And I’m yours. Yours alone.”
