Page 51 of Taken By the Ruthless Highlander
His gaze flicked from her smile to her hand, resting next to her plate. How he wanted to reach for it and caress it.
Every second she kept it there was torture. For a moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she’d done it on purpose, knowing that he was pining for her.
The thought aggravated him more than it should have.
“Dinnae tell me that ye’ve already changed yer mind about the cèilidh,” Morgana scoffed as she finally stabbed into her chicken and lifted a bite to her mouth.
“Unlike some people, I dinnae change my mind often, if at all. It takes far too much effort to look back and go forward than it does to just move forward,” Ryder answered, trying not to let her heaving bosom distract him too much.
Yet her bare skin taunted him like a tall glass of water on a hot day. He could taste her salty skin on his lips as he fought back the urge to splay her on the table and claim her.
“So, if there are nay regrets, then why the secrets?” she asked.
“Did ye ever think that maybe the rules arenae there for my protection, but yers? Besides, the less ye ken about me, the better it’ll be for ye in the long run. Trust me on that.”
“I’d like to,” Morgana mumbled as she looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes. “I would. But there’s just so much that worries me.”
“And there’s yer problem. These things are none of yer concern. I promised to keep ye safe, and I will. Ye’ve got a roof over yer head, yer family is cared for, and all is well. Nae to mention, tomorrow ye’re plannin’ a party, so what is there to worry about? Yer needs are being met, My Lady.”
“Are yers?” she asked, her voice thick with lust.
Of course, his needs weren’t being met. The woman had barely looked at him since their wedding, and the only reason she was in the room with him now was due to an agreement that bound them for life. Appearances had to be kept.
“Careful,” Ryder warned as he cut another bite of chicken. “Ye may nae want to ken the answer to that question.”
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“Iwouldnae have asked if I didnae want to ken the answer. Are yer needs bein’ met? Perhaps by other ladies?”
Ryder suddenly grabbed her hand, his fingers curling around her wrist like tentacles, sending her heart fluttering like the wings of a bird. Morgana held her breath as she caught the spark of intrigue in his dark gaze.
“Ye’re walkin’ a fine line this evenin’,” he murmured.
The warning should have sent a chill down her spine. Instead, all she could hear was the longing he was trying so hard to hide from her.
“I already warned ye once; I had hoped I willnae have to do it again.”
“I’m just tryin’ to get to ken ye a bit better. We are, after all, bound together in this life. I’d hate to roam about the castle and never ken what yer favorite food is. Or if ye prefer mornin’ to evenin’.” Morgana’s eyes fell to his lips.
How she wanted to crush her lips to his and roll about on the floor with him as if they were children without a care in the world.
Alas, it would never happen. Ryder was too stuffy to take her in this room, and with so many witnesses present. Surely he’d rather have her all to himself.
Morgana found herself hoping he would lift her hand to his lips. She wanted to feel his hot breath caressing her skin. It didn’t have to be her hand; it could be her neck or her shoulders.
Her breathing quicking as her thoughts spiraled further. Heat ripped through her body like wildfire consuming the dry underbrush.
“What games are ye tryin’ to play with me?” Ryder asked, his eyebrow arched.
The warning in his tone was gone, carted away like the dirty dishes from the table.
“I’m nae playin’ any games with ye. But if ye like, I could teach ye another lesson in cards,” Morgana teased.
Ryder’s lips twitched at the corners as he fought back a smirk.
“Perhaps another time,” he said, leaning back in his seat.
Morgana glanced at the door, expecting servants to come rushing in with their next course. When they did not open, her heart skipped a beat.
