Page 60 of The Cruel Highlander's Bride
He studied her for a moment, likely taking in the bags under her eyes despite her slow morning. She felt too exposed under his gaze, as if he could see into her spiraling thoughts.
“Come on, let’s get ye somethin’ to eat,” he said finally.
With those magic words, Ciara perked up a little and followed him to the dining hall.
“Did ye sleep well?” he asked once she was seated and had some fresh bread and cheese in front of her.
It was a leading question. They both knew she hadn’t slept well, but she just nodded, too focused on getting some of this warm food into her stomach.
She moaned a little at the first bite, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Was there anything better than the first bite of food in the morning?
Well, closer to the afternoon now.
She finally looked up from the buttery, cheesy goodness to find her husband watching her mouth closely—angrily, even. His gaze was no longer wary, as it had been outside her chambers.
“What?” she asked.
“Be careful with those sounds ye’re makin’, lass,” he grunted.
The implication was clear, and it sent a shiver through her. She liked that her moan could elicit this reaction from him. The power in it was intoxicating, and it woke her up even more than the food did. The heady feel of his gaze on her was enough to make her pause everything else. She didn’t want to lose that.
Slowly, with her eyes on Magnus, Ciara took another bite of the food and let out an exaggerated moan.
“Ciara…” Magnus warned as his fists clenched.
She made to take another bite, to continue taunting him. She wanted to see just how far she could push him until he rounded the table to her side and did something to really make her moan, to really banish any lingering fears or worries she might have.
Before she had a chance, though, the door to the dining hall swung open, and Olivia strolled in, oblivious or unconcerned about the tension in the room.
“Dear, sweet, Braither,” she greeted, a big smile spreading across her face.
Mangus just rolled his eyes.
“What do ye want, Olivia?” he asked, not breaking eye contact with Ciara. His eyebrow was raised in question.What will ye do now?he seemed to ask her.
“Do I have to want somethin’?” Olivia asked sweetly.
Magnus finally tore his gaze away from Ciara and replied, “With that face, aye.”
“Very well, I want to come to the village with ye,” Olivia replied, with her hands on her hips.
“Nay,” came his firm reply.
“Why nae?” she whined. “I never get to go anywhere.”
“Ye’re nae comin’.”
Olivia let out a long groan and flopped down into one of the chairs at the table dramatically. She made a pleading face, but Magnus continued to stare her down.
She threw her hands up with another groan. “Fine. Well, what about the upcomin’ cèilidh? Will ye let me attend? Ye’ll be back by then,” she pleaded.
Ciara watched as Magnus considered this and somehow managed to keep her amusement and her suspicions to herself.
“All right, ye can go. Ewan will accompany ye, though,” he added with a serious look.
His sister immediately perked up. Whatever annoyance she might have felt a moment ago quickly turned into excitement. Tossing her hair back over her shoulder, she stood up and bounced out of the room.
Ciara started laughing as soon as Olivia had left the room, drawing a curious glance from the Laird.
