Page 24 of A Bride for the Icy Highlander
“Well, ye’re right,” she muttered, closing the book with a snap. “The first chance I get, I’m out of this place. I’ll nae be chained to yer side like a daft bairn.”
Her words were bold, but there was a spark in her eyes that challenged him, daring him to respond.
Kian smirked, stepping closer, his shadow looming over her. “Dinnae think I’ll let ye slip away that easily, lass.”
Abigail lifted her chin defiantly. “And what if I did? What then, Kian? Would ye chase me to the ends of the earth?”
His eye darkened, a wicked smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe I would. Ye’re more trouble than any lass I’ve ever met.”
Abigail’s breath hitched, but she held his gaze. “Trouble? That’s rich, comin’ from the Mad Laird.”
The tension between them crackled, their words sharp but laced with something unspoken—a dangerous attraction.
Kian folded his arms, grinning. “Ye’ve got spirit, I’ll give ye that. But ye’ll learn soon enough, bunny. This game ye’re playin’—it’s nae just for yer amusement.”
Abigail narrowed her eyes at him. “And what game is that, then?”
His voice dropped to a purr. “The one where I win.”
She scoffed but couldn’t deny the thrill coursing through her veins. “We’ll see who’ll win in the end.”
The air between them thickened, every glance and word weaving a tangled web neither dared to unravel just yet.
“Ye’re nae the first woman to think she can beat me,” he said.
Abigail thought of Helena. Did he mean her? She talked to him like no one else in the castle. Too comfortable to be merely a friend.
“Was that yer wife?” she blurted out.
Immediately, she wished she could take it back.
She felt foolish for asking such a bold question, but curiosity gnawed at her. Sheneededto know if Kian and Helena were more than just acquaintances.
She tried to look anywhere but at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice how vulnerable she felt.
Kian’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Why? Are ye jealous, bunny?” His voice was low and teasing, but there was a challenge in his eye.
Abigail bristled, squaring her shoulders. “Why would I be jealous?” she shot back.
“Ye tell me,” Kian said, his tone light. “Ye’re the one who hasnae stopped staring at me for the last hour.”
Abigail’s eyes widened, and she shook her head quickly. “Ye’re mad. I wasnae lookin’ at ye,” she scoffed, though her pounding heart betrayed the lie.
“Mad? Nay,” Kian said with a slow smile. He leaned into her personal space, making her breath hitch. “I ken what I saw, lass. Now, answer me. Are ye jealous?”
Abigail bit her lip. “I already told ye, I’m nae jealous. I’m just… curious,” she whispered.
“That’s nae what ye meant,” Kian growled, his eye glinting with amusement. “And ye ken it.”
Abigail crossed her arms, trying to maintain her composure but feeling her resolve waver.
“Ye’re just playin’ with me,” she accused, though the slight smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.
“Aye, maybe I am,” Kian admitted with a sly grin. “But it’s a game we’re both enjoyin’, nay?”
Abigail’s heart fluttered in a confusing mix of irritation and attraction.
“Ye’re impossible,” she muttered, but didn’t move away.
