Page 15 of The Highlander's Virgin Widow
She pushed her door open, the familiar creak sending relief down her spine.
It was all quiet, so quiet that she let herself wonder if the stranger had left with his people again. She was not naïve enough to believe that anyway.
She took off her dress, the weight of it suddenly registering as she hung it in her wardrobe. She resolved to deal with it all properly tomorrow and walked to her bed.
On days like this, the moon didn’t do much, as it was on the other side of the castle. This meant less light in her room. It also meant she had to sleep in the darkness.
She climbed into her bed and lowered her head to her pillow, all the stress and troubles that had clung to her during the day disappearing one after the other. In this brief respite, she only had her sleep to worry about. She didn’t have to think about Evander or his men or his obnoxiously pretentious household items or even his?—
Wait. What is that?
She could barely feel it before the question came to her mind. Her back was pressed against something. Something firm. Hard. Something she had never once felt before.
Her hand reached out to whatever it was, meaning to push it off the bed and reclaim her space, but then she felt hair and warm skin. She jerked awake, and her eyes snapped open.
Someone was in her bed.
She sat up almost immediately and reached for the closest candle. “What the?—”
Her mouth dropped open as she brought the light close to the strange object in her bed. The one who was staring back at her with utter amusement in his eyes.
Evander.
6
“Is this what ye plan to do? Seduce me?” His voice, while low and rough, still carried the same authoritative tone he had used the first time she had met him.
A gasp escaped her lips, and her eyes widened. Not only was he lying on her bed, but he was also completely shirtless. And the sight of him alone made chills run down her spine.
“Are ye nae going to say anything?” he prodded, still looking at her, the expectant expression on his face growing by the second.
“What in God’s name do ye think ye’re doing?” The words tumbled out of her mouth.
She scrambled off the bed, staring at him in disbelief. This was not happening. This was certainly not happening.
“This is me room. Have ye nay shame?!”
“Nay. It isnae yer room. ‘Tis the Laird’s room. And the last time I checked, that was me,” Evander pointed out, his voice ironically calm.
The candle in her hand continued to flicker, struggling against the draft seeping through the window.
“I had the spare room prepared for ye, ye brute!” she screamed, feeling the words scrape her throat.
“Like I said,” Evander asserted, his voice calm as ever, “I am the Laird. And this is me room. It should be anyway.”
Keira swallowed, feeling all the blood rush to her cheeks. She had never been in bed with a man. Not one who stayed alive long enough anyway.
It was the middle of the night, but anyone could walk into her room at any moment. Anyone could knock. But she already had her fair share of disgrace for the day. This should be the last thing she should have to deal with.
“Ye invaded me home, and now ye willnae let me sleep in peace? Ye plan to invade me dreams next, Mr. Kincaid?!”
“For the last time, woman, ‘tisLaird.Laird Kincaid. This arrangement isnae going to work if ye cannae show respect.”
“Respect?” Keira scoffed. “Did ye really just say that?”
Evander opened his mouth to speak, but something held him back. Something Keira could not explain. For the better half of the next minute, they continued staring at each other in complete silence.
All of a sudden, it dawned on her.
