Page 67 of The Cruel Highlander's Bride
What if this wasn’t enough? What if their people never accepted that the feud was over?
“What do ye think is goin’ to happen in the village today?” she asked shyly.
The note left for Magnus had her questioning her role here once again. Would the village ever accept her as their Lady? Magnus and Ewan would keep them safe, but they couldn’t make anyonelikeher.
“I dinnae ken, lass. But I promise ye’ll be safe with me.”
“I ken,” she assured him. It was the one thing she wasn’t worried about.
With a teasing smile, he added, “They’ll probably take one look at ye and bow at yer feet. That’s what I wanted to do.”
“Nay, ye didnae!”
Ciara remembered their first meeting in her father’s study. Magnus was standoffish at best, but rude might be a more accurate term. Attractive, obviously, but she wouldn’t say he was particularly awed by her.
“Aye, I truly did. I thought, here is this gorgeous, tall, protective lass. I should get on me knees and beg for a scrap of her attention,” Magnus swore, crossing his hands over his heart.
Her cheeks were surely bright red now, she could feel the warmth. But she was laughing, which was a far cry from her anxious state just a few moments ago. Magnus had a way of easing her worries.
“Ye’re exaggeratin’.” She laughed.
“Aye, maybe a little. But I couldnae keep me eyes off ye, that much is true. Barely even noticed yer braither was in the room, which was a very dangerous slip for a laird entering an enemy’s castle. But what can I say, ye captivated me,” he said sincerely.
“Ye captivated me as well,” she admitted in a whisper. Atop their horses, she wasn’t even sure if he would hear it.
“Aye, I ken, lass. Ye arenae as subtle as ye think ye are,” he joked.
Ciara scoffed and reached out to swat him on the arm, but he artfully directed his horse out of reach. The momentum had her swaying a little on her mount, though. She was dangerously close to falling off a horse for the first time in her life, but Magnus and his horse were back at her side in a second.
With strong hands, he righted her in the saddle.
“Are ye all right?” Magnus asked, his voice strained.
“Aye, I’m all right, thanks to ye.” She shot him a grateful smile.
“I’m just glad I caught ye,” he said, his voice still tight.
A brief silence fell over them. Ciara could see the furrow in his brow. He kept shooting her glances as if he needed to ensure she was still in the saddle.
“I suppose ye are right,” she quipped, trying to bring some levity back to the ride.
“What do ye mean?”
“I’m nae very subtle at all—practically threw meself in yer arms.”
Finally, the Laird laughed again. It wasn’t as full or as deep as before, but it was something. They had far too much to worry about without also worrying about her falling off her horse. If she could just get him back to teasing her…
“Aye, that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about, lass. If ye wanted me hands on ye, ye didnae need to go to such lengths. Ye could have just asked,” he teased, sounding more and more like himself from a few moments ago.
Ciara turned her head to the side. He was smiling again, that broad, dazzling smile that lit up his face. It was one of her favorite expressions. Even better, she was the one who had put it there.
They still had a lot to figure out, but maybe this whole arrangement would work, after all. The more time she spent with the Laird like this, the more she could see them spending the rest of their lives together. And the scariest part was that she thought she might want just that.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied with a wink.
“Ye do that, lass.” Turning serious, he added, “Anytime ye want to be in me arms, all ye need to do is ask.”
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