Page 31 of The Highlander's Twisted Deal
Ava blinked, a little taken aback. She glanced over at the dancers flying wildly around, throwing each other around in circles.
She was so tired that even the idea of getting to her feet seemed unbearable, let alone dancing so wildly. It felt as if all of her energy had been spent on Brigit. Well, maybe it had.
“I—”
“I think nae, lad,” Callum said pleasantly.
The boy blinked, looking a little dazed. “I’m sorry, Me Laird?”
“Ye heard me,” Callum said, his voice just as cool and relaxed as before. “She’s me betrothed, and I think she’ll be dancing with nobody but me.”
The boy flushed a deep red, mumbled something unintelligible, and hurried away without a backward glance.
Ava glanced sharply at Callum, her eyebrows shooting up. “Who are ye to say who I can and cannae dance with?”
Callum grinned wolfishly at her. The grin made her insides dance, achingly so, and she was a little annoyed at herself for being so weak. This man should mean nothing to her. Hemustmean nothing to her if she was going to come out of this business unscathed in more ways than one.
This wasbusiness.
“I couldnae help thinking that ye were too tired to even stand,” Callum remarked. “So, I spoke up for ye. What’s more, I meant what I said. I am yer betrothed. I willnae dance with other women beside ye, and I expect the same courtesy.”
“Ye cannae tell me what to do.”
“Perhaps nae,” he relented. “But if ye want our arrangement to go smoothly, ye will do well to recall that ye are mine.”
His last sentence made Ava’s cheeks burn and her stomach do somersaults. She swallowed reflexively, and her sharp tongue, for once, failed to provide any impressive retorts.
With nothing else to say, Ava huffed to herself and pointedly turned away to watch the dancing again.
It took about half an hour for Ava to relax after that. Callum stayed beside her, his bulk comforting and warm as the night went on. Brigit fell asleep, breathing deeply, clutching her child to her chest, and the music and dancing continued.
Nobody else asked Ava to dance, for which she was quite grateful. She had almost begun to imagine herself to be invisible, free to relax and sit on the sidelines, watching the party.
“Is there anything to drink?” she asked suddenly. “Nae wine or whiskey, maybe something more refreshing?”
Callum considered. “There’s a stream nae too far away. I could fetch ye some water.”
“I dinnae mind fetching me own.”
He flashed a twisted smile. “I willnae have ye wandering alone in the dark woods. Sit here, I’ll fetch us some water.”
He got up abruptly and sauntered towards the treeline. Ava watched him go until the shadows swallowed him up.
Easy, lass.Remember who he is. He’s a laird, and ye are… well, a healer at best and an exiled woman of the night at worst.
She straightened her back, drew in a deep breath, and concentrated on smiling patiently at the dancers. They thought she was their future Lady McAdair. She wasn’t, of course, but it wouldn’t hurt to give a good impression.
She was so focused on smiling and seeming composed that she didn’t notice the wobbling, swaying drunk until he staggered right up to her and plonked down on the seat to her right, where Callum had been sitting.
“Are ye nae a pretty one, then?” the drunk slurred.
He was likely no older than thirty, but hard living, excessive drinking, and overeating had left him plump with a red, swollen face, not helped by a steadfastly retreating hairline.
She cleared her throat, wishing she dared get up and move away. It was dark now, the shadows hemming them in, the moon and stars coming to life above. If she moved away, might he not follow her? At least, here, she was in the circle of the firelight, where everybody could see her.
“So I’ve been told,” Ava responded sharply, not looking at him.
It was a mistake to respond, but she knew from experience with other drunk, leering men that ignoring him would be like a red rag to a bull.
