Page 27 of A Wife for the Highland Wolf
Lydia huffed. “I told ye, I read them already. I was searching for something new.”
“And ye thought invadin’ the laird’s study at this time of night was the answer?”
“That’s where ye said the books were.” She tilted her chin up. “It was nae as if I had kent ye’d be in here at this hour. Besides, ye did ask me if I wanted to see them.”
“That doesnae make the situation better. Do ye nae ken what might have been said had one of me advisors caught ye enterin’ this room at this time of night?”
He was clearly trying to goad her into an argument or intimidate her into leaving. Both possibilities made her angry.
“I daenae ken what yer advisors might say, but I would tell them the same thing I’m tellin’ ye. I wanted a book, and this is the only place I ken where to find one. And since ye’re here, I’ll also be askin’ for paper, pen and ink, which I was goin’ to ask ye for in the mornin’.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“To write to me sisters. I promised I’d write Isobel every day, and like as nae, Nora and Emma will also be expecting word from me, though mayhap nae as frequently, since tis a longer journey.”
Murdoch’s frown deepened. “And what would ye be needin’ to write every day about?” He stepped closer, eyes dark and gleaming menacingly in the firelight. “Are ye here spying on me clan for yer kinfolk?”
She resisted the urge to slap him. “And why would I be? They’ve other things to be thinking about.”
“They might be thinkin’ to mount an attack against me clan.”
His ludicrous suggestion was enough to make her laugh in his face. “And why would they be doin’ that? They’ve clans of their own to manage and nae a single one of them cared one bit about Clan Lochlann until ye showed up with yer demands for abetrothal on the basis of some contract me bastard of a cousin concocted with yer previous laird.”
She glared up at him, then poked him hard in the chest to make her point. “I daenae ken what sort of life ye’ve led to make ye such a suspicious, temperamental man, but I’ll tell ye now; ye’re nae the center of the world. The only reason me sister wants to hear from me every day is because of the way ye acted when ye came to her home to claim me. So if ye daenae like it, ye’ve only yerself to blame.”
She could tell she’d scored a point from the way his eyes glittered and his jaw tightened. He looked much like Leo did when Nora challenged him on some issue or another and won the argument, which was more often than he liked to admit.
Several moments of tense silence passed. Murdoch huffed and stepped back. “Ye can take any of the books from the shelves that arenae clan records. As for the writin’ supplies, I’ll have the steward bring ye some in the morn.”
“Alright, thank ye.” Lydia kept her voice steady and her tone as polite as she could manage, determined to be courteous in her victory.
She started to turn around, but stopped as Murdoch caught her shoulder with one hand and her chin with the other. His touch was gentle but as solid as iron as he lifted her chin to meet his gaze.
“Ye might be tellin’ the truth about yer clan or ye might nae, it doesnae matter to me.” A small smile teased one corner of his stern mouth and softened the lines on his face. “But one thing I will change for ye, Lydia Knox.”
He leaned closer, and she felt her cheeks heat with a renewed fever, wondering if he was going to kiss her again. Her heart started to pound faster and she nearly squeaked when his breath brushed across her ear. “Ye say I’m nae the center of the world. Mayhap tis true, but I’ll promise ye this: by the time this month is over, I’ll nae only be welcome in yer bed, I’ll be the center of yer world.”
His lips brushed her cheek in a gentle teasing caress too light to be called a kiss. “Think of that, as ye read yer books and write yer letters, and dream of yerself in me arms.”
Her heart felt as if it would explode and her face was on fire as he released her. Still, she couldn’t bear to let him have the last word. She forced herself to meet his amused gaze. “I’m sure I will think on it, Laird Lochlann. But in the meantime, best ye think on this in turn: if ye’re the center of me world, then there’s nay part of yers that I’ll nae touch. And ye can dream of that, if ye like.”
She turned and left the room before he could respond. It was only back in her room, lying on the bed with her cheeks slowly cooling, that she realized she’d never picked out a book after all.
15
Murdoch scowled at the empty glass in his hand and thumped it onto the table. A pitcher of water sat to one side. He tipped some into the nearby basin and splashed his face. The chill of it forced him into some semblance of alertness, but did nothing for the weariness that flowed through his blood like molasses..
Despite lying in bed for candle-marks on end, he hadn’t slept a wink. His mind and the twisting in his gut refused to settle when he recalled the way Lydia had looked at him in the moonlit gardens and in his study.
She was wary of him, but she also looked upon him with curiosity and kindness. He’d sensed her sincerity in her repeated demand for sharing evening meals, and it baffled him. How could she insist on eating with him one moment, then ask him whether he’d murdered someone the next?
And then there was their second encounter in the study, or was it their third, and their confrontation over books and writing materials. That altercation had left him stunned by her boldness, both in sneaking into his study and in challenging him so forthrightly.
It had also left him with an aching manhood and a desperate need for more relief than just the relaxation of his stiff back muscles.
He almost wished he’d asked her to apply liniment to the places he couldn’t reach. He’d been sorely tempted, but feared that if she touched him like that, he would lose all control. Besides, she’d fled before he could respond to her last bold sally.
Lydia was more difficult to understand than Wilma, and he’d long grown resigned to never knowing what was going on in his younger cousin’s mind. The edge of desire he felt for Lydia also didn’t help matters.
