Page 4 of Tempting the Highland Devil
“Yvaine,” he called again.
Yvaine did not give him the chance to speak before she thundered. “I willnae speak to ye again, Arran, if ye dare tell me that a loveless marriage to whomever wins my braither’s ridiculous competition is all right.”
Arran shook his head. “That is nay why I am here. If anythin’, I think that yer braither’s plan to marry ye off is ridiculous. I told him just that.”
Yvaine felt some of the tension in her muscles loosen up. “Are ye sure?” she questioned with a slightly arched brow. “Ye two are best friends. How am I supposed to believe that ye dinnae agree with him?”
“I am unmarried too, am I nay?” He finally stepped towards her, and Yvaine relaxed when a little smile played out on his lips. “I dinnae believe that ye need to be married to be safe.”
“Aye, but ye are a man, and ye have a reputation in the Highlands.”
When he cocked his head to one side, she laughed a little and forgot about her plight. “Dinnae act like ye dinnae ken. Every lady in the Highlands refers to ye as the rogue laird. Ye are popular amongst the ladies. Always in their beds but never in their homes.”
Yvaine saw his smile widen, and she felt faint. Over the years, she told herself that she would never be one of those ladies, so she had done her best to avoid moments like this, when he would smile at her. Arguing was much easier.
Her pulse pounded in her ears as he shook his head and pretended to cough. “That may be true, but I am nay what we are discussin’ right now. What do ye intend to do about yer braither’s decision?”
Yvaine nibbled on her lower lip and began pondering her earlier decision again. She did not think she should be telling Arran about it though.
He and Duncan are so close that he will probably tell Duncan everything I say to him.
Like he read her thoughts, he suddenly pressed his hands down over her shoulders and leaned closer to her. “Ye can tell me what ye are thinkin’, Yvaine. I am always goin’ to take yer side on this.”
His voice rang with sincerity, and she found herself leaning into him without thinking. Her senses heightened as warmth from his hands touched her skin. Yvaine shuddered and ran her tongue over her lower lip.
She saw his full lashes lower as he suddenly stared at her lips. Heat rushed through her, and he dropped his hands, releasing her abruptly like he felt it too.
“I plan to run away,” she announced and turned away from him.
Yvaine hugged herself tightly and walked towards the edge of the cliff again. Another gust of wind blew in her direction and left her shivering.
“What?” Arran blurted in a shrill voice. “Where would ye go?” he stammered, and she spun back around quickly to find him walking towards her.
“I dinnae ken. Perhaps England? Amelia’s faither has many people there who might help me and—” Yvaine backed away as she talked because of his was suddenly awfully close. She gasped as her feet wobbled on the edge of the cliff, and she slipped.
Arran caught her by the wrist and tugged to pull her back to him. The force made them both land on the ground hard, plastering her on top his full length. Her hands pressed into the hard walls of his chest as she gasped.
Arran made no sound even though his back and head landed on the ground with force. His hands were around her waist, holding her close, and Yvaine forgot how to breathe.
Her eyes landed on his; her heart threatened to burst out of her ribcage. “I am so sorry,” she quickly apologized when she caught her breath again.
Arran stared at her. His eyes moved from hers down to her lips and seemed to stay there forever. It was like they breathed the same air, and she could no longer take the heat sizzling inside her.
Thankfully, her horse neighed, like it was protesting what just happened and broke the spell of the moment. He released her, and she scrambled to her feet, arranging her earasaid and smoothing a hand over her hair.
Yvaine placed a hand on her chest and felt her racing heartbeat. She had learnt from her mother that horses too sensed things by smelling, and Yvaine wondered if the horse also sensed her nervousness.
“Ye cannae run away,” Arran spoke then, and she quickly licked her lips before turning to him. “Ye have nay place to go, and ye willnae be safe. Nae to mention, yer braither will find ye nay matter where ye run to.” He stared hard at her before adding, “And I will help him.”
“Also, the rules in England are far stricter than the rules here. Ye will be forced to wed anyway, and it willnae be to a man of yer choosin’.”
“Then what would ye have me do?” Yvaine began pacing around as she tried making sense of the thoughts running through her mind. “I cannae marry a man I dinnae love, and the idea of havin’ those many lairds contestin’ for me hand is ridiculous. I shall run to England and ask Amelia’s faither for help and…”
Her words were barely out before Arran closed the distance between them again, grabbed her arm, and pulled her to him. “If ye threaten to run away again, I will bundle ye up on me shoulder and drag ye back to yer braither’s castle to be locked away until ye regain yer senses.”
His guttural voice sounded rougher than ever, and Yvaine saw the seriousness in his eyes as he glared at her. She quivered inside because she knew right then that he would do everything he just threatened.
“Okay fine, I willnae run,” she murmured and whimpered when he released her and withdrew quickly.
