Page 16 of Captured By the Cruel Highlander
“Ye willnae compare me to that shite,” he said threateningly. “Ye want to ken what I offer which he doesnae? Freedom.Safety.For ye and yer precious family. Nae to mention if we marry, Clan Wilkinson will be tied to one of the most powerful families in the Highlands.”
They were so close now that he could see her long eyelashes brushing against her cheeks. Her breath was coming faster, and he wanted to lift her to his level, pin her to the wall, and force her to follow his every command.
As the tension built between them, his gaze flicked to her lips. He wanted to kiss her, toownher. Even the thought of James Stewart touching her made him rage. He leaned forward slowly, gauging her reaction. But as he neared her, she pulled away, walking to the fireplace and putting distance between them.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.
“Are ye sure that yer plan will work?” she asked dubiously.
“Certain.”
Her hair was loose and falling about her shoulders in wild curls. A long lock of it tumbled over her breast, almost down to her waist. His eyes followed it, enjoying her figure.
“Alright,” she said quietly. “I accept yer offer. But I stand by what I said. Separate lives or nae, I still need to trust ye. We need to spend time together,realtime, at least once a day.”
“Fine,” he muttered. “We’ll have dinner together each night. Is that good enough? We can start tonight. Go and change,” he said forcefully. “I never want to see ye wearin’ that thing again.”
He hated the wedding gown. It didn’t suit her complexion, and it taunted him with the Stewart house colors. He was desperate to rip it off her body—perhaps even to set it on fire.
He stepped forward and lifted the top layer of the dress between his fingers. It was stained black from the marshes, and there was blood on the hem from her injured knee.
He only realized how close they were when she looked up at him.
“Why cannae I simply have it cleaned and wear it on our weddin’ day?” she asked as his ire rose again. “There’s nay need for ye to buy a new one for a sham marriage.”
“Och, nay, little one,” he said, taking her chin in his thumb and forefinger. “I dinnae plan to marry ye in a dress made for another.”
He leaned toward her, tempted once more to capture her lips with his own, but at the last second, he checked himself and pulled away.
“Go and change. Me servants will make sure that ye have everythin’ ye need.”
I’ll need to watch meself around this wee pixie. Nay laird of this clan will be led astray by a woman again.
Emily left the study and closed the door behind her, feeling exhausted and confused. She leaned against it for a few minutes, steadying her breathing and trying to understand what had just happened.
It almost looked as though Adam had intended to kiss her, but he changed his mind at the last second. She could see the lust in his expression—and to her shame, she could have mirrored it with her own.
Smoothing a hand down her dress, she grimaced. She’d forgotten how filthy it was. Her hand was now caked in black mud and grime from the moors, and she longed for a bath.
She pushed off the door, wondering how she would find her room, when she spotted Lady MacNiall standing at the end of the corridor.
Adam’s mother was incredibly beautiful, with an almost regal look about her, but her eyes were cold. Emily took in a deep breath, preparing herself for a confrontation as she walked a few paces down the corridor and stopped before Lady MacNiall.
She made sure to match the lady’s glare and waited to see what she would say.
“I wish ye welcome!” Lady MacNiall exclaimed.
Emily tried hard to keep the skepticism from her expression.
Lady MacNiall turned around, looking down the corridor. “Olivia!”
At her shrill cry, a young maid hurried forward and curtsied to Emily.
“See that Lady… what was yer name, me dear?”
“Emily Murray,” Emily replied.
“Olivia, see that Lady Emily has a bath drawn up.” Lady MacNiall’s eyes raked over Emily’s filthy dress. “I have a dress ye can wear,” she added finally. “It will hardly fit ye—ye are a wee thing. But it will be better than that monstrosity.”
