Page 10 of The Highlander's Fake Wife
“The…role?” Olivia repeated.
“Of me betrothed,” Arthur finished, smile slipping into something far more mischievous.
“Yer what?!”
More chuckling slipped out from Arthur; he was beginning to enjoy these moments of outrage from her. “A fake engagement, selkie. Long enough to calm me council. After that, yer maither and ye can do as ye please, wit the word o’MacDonnell to keep ye safe.”
Olivia’s arms crossed tightly against her chest. Arthur couldn’t help but notice the act perk up her breasts considerably. “Ye are some sort o’scheming, puckish troll, ye ken that?”
Arthur smirked, leaning further back in his chair so as to prop his feet up onto his desk. He watched as his selkie rolled the offer around in her head, likely trying to find any loophole she may have missed. It was a pleasant sight, he had to admit; she was going to keep things quite engaging between the two of them.
“So…yer gonna use all yer power to find me maither,” Olivia began.
Arthur nodded curtly.
“And we daenae have to stay behind yer walls to keep yer protection?”
“I wouldnae suggest traveling too outside me boarder,” Arthur admitted. “But, aye, that’s the gist of it.”
Olivia’s eyes narrowed, nose scrunching up as if she’d just stepped in something unpleasant. “I dinnae believe ye. What’s the catch, m’Larid?”
“No catch,” Arthur insisted with a wink–or, as best a wink as he could manage, given his eyepatch. “Just make sure to play the part well. This willnae work if the council doesnae believe yer in love with me.”
“I daenae like to lie,” Olivia argued weakly.
“It’ll be meself who has to sell it,” Arthur pointed out. “Though, if yer worried about havin’ a bit of a fib, we could properly betroth and end it eventually.”
Olivia furiously shook her head, thick braid bouncing against her bosom. “N-Nay–a fake betrothal is fine. But, I have a rule of me own to add.”
Arthur raised a brow, impressed that his selkie truly thought she held any leverage in this situation. Curiosity got the better ofhim, though, and he slipped his legs back under his desk, leaning across and attention fully on Olivia.
She grimaced slightly, straightening the waist of her dress before her hands settled against her noticeable hips. “I–yer nae allowed to touch me while I’m here. Not without me giving the say-so.”
Arthur chuckled, rising from his chair and crossing around his desk. The slight look of panic on Olivia’s face was priceless, and it only got better once he gently grasped her hand and lifted it to his lips. He gave her knuckle a gentle kiss, one eye flickering up to meet hers as he flashed her a mischievous grin.
“Ach, sorry lass; does that count under yer rule?”
Face flushing as brightly as her hair, Olivia tore her hand free and muttered some particularly unladylike phrases under her breath. She quickly stormed out of Arthur’s office after that, and he couldn’t help but laugh once more.
“Ah, that wee selkie’s making this fun already,” he grinned, reaching the door before closing it gently with a click.
6
It was common for Arthur to wake well before the rest of the castle. He enjoyed the quiet of it all, filled in occasionally by either the cry of gulls or the ocean itself, beating against the isle’s rocky outcropping.
Taking nothing but the clothes on his back (and the occasional sword, if he felt in the mood to train), he’d climb down the natural footholds to the beach below, taking in the sight of the gloomy grey sky above the restless sea. Today, however, he was joined by the one man he trusted above all else, a man whose outward appearance could have easily been mistaken for the stoney walls of the keep.
Nathan Bisby was quite massive for a man-at-arms, and not simply due to his extraordinary height. Often mistaken for a giant, his ruddy hair was typically tied back in a series of intricate braids, allowing his square jaw and powerful features to be all the more on display.
Eyes as grey as the clouds currently drifting above them watched with careful scrutiny as Arthur joined his side, the pair standing out to face the waters as the seabreeze tangled through the giant’s similarly braided beard. “Flora was terribly sullen about me risin’ this early, m’laird.”
Arthur chuckled lightly. “I’ll make sure to make it up later. Though, she still had time to do yer hair?”
A swirl of salty air drifted between his man-at-arm’s braided locks. “Wanted me to be presentable.”
A comfortable silence between the pair for a moment, Arthur working out exactly how much of his plan he needed to reveal. Nathan was loyal to a fault, especially when it came to keeping secrets. At least, when his sister wasn’t involved. Something about her broke the usually rock-solid man’s facade completely, as if she were a cool stream slipping between the cracks. “I need ye to send a small party to a convent just outside MacCulloh’s territory.”
Nathan raised a bushy brow. “I thought we took care of ol’ MacCulloh already?”
