Page 19 of A Highland Bride Disciplined (Scottish Daddies #2)

Scarlett inhaled sharply, her shoulders tightening, as though she were holding herself steady.

“Congratulations, ye’ve done what any faither and husband has done since the beginning of time.”

“Ungrateful,” he murmured, just to watch the color rise in her cheeks.

Her jaw set. “Fine. Thank ye.”

It came out quiet. Uncertain. And it shot straight through him.

Kian allowed the smallest curl of a smile. “Ye’re quite welcome, lass.”

And then, because he couldn’t stop himself, he set his hands against the wall on either side of her, trapping her there.

The movement startled her, but she didn’t retreat. Her gaze lifted, locking with his, that same spark of defiance that pulled at him like a rope.

Christ, she undid him without even trying.

He wanted her again. Fiercely. Their last kiss had been a taste, and he hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.

He leaned close enough that her breath brushed his jaw, warm and quickened. Her eyes dipped to his mouth again, and the last thread of his restraint frayed to breaking.

For a moment, they just hovered there, caught in a taut, silent battle of wills. He could hear her breathing. It was steady but shallow, like she was bracing for impact. His own pulse thundered in his ears, the sound loud enough to drown out reason.

And he gave in.

His hand slid to her waist, the fine fabric of her gown warm beneath his palm. She inhaled sharply at the touch, her lashes lowering, and he closed the last inch between them. Their lips met in a cautious brush light enough to pull away from, if either of them had the sense to do so.

Neither did.

The second pass was firmer, hungrier. She sighed into him softly, almost resigned, and he caught the sound with his mouth, deepening the kiss. The taste of her bloomed across his tongue, sweet and dark.

Her palm found his chest, fingers curling not to push, but to hold. He angled his head, catching more of her, urging her to open for him. She did, and heat streaked low through him, curling tight.

He pressed her back until the edge of his desk caught her hip, papers rustling. One hand braced against the wood beside her, caging her in, while the other skimmed the curve of her side.

She made a muffled sound that nearly undid him. He wanted to taste all of it, every breath, every protest.

Her fingers twisted in the fabric at his shoulder, pulling him closer.

Her lips parted again, and he devoured her.

Christ, I could take her right here. Right now —

Then a loud knock on the door shattered everything.

They tore apart like guilty thieves. Scarlett retreating toward the window, Kian to the far side of his desk, breath ragged and mouth aching from the kiss they’d barely started.

“Come in,” he barked, rougher than intended.

Tam stepped through, shutting the door behind him with deliberate care, though his expression was anything but cautious. “Duncan’s been delayed, m’laird.”

Scarlett turned at the unfamiliar name. “Who’s Duncan?”

Kian’s gaze flicked to her. The heat from moments ago cooled into something heavier. “One of me guards,” he said evenly. “The lad’s meant to be bringing word about Elise’s maither. Apparently.”

Scarlett’s spine stiffened. Her fingers twitched against her skirts like she needed something to hold. “Her… maither?”

“Aye.”

Her chin lifted, but there was no disguising the tightening in her voice. “And what exactly does that mean?”

“That I’ll ken more when Duncan gets here,” he said.

“That she’ll be taken away, ye mean,” Scarlett countered, each word clipped like it hurt to say.

Kian opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “Daenae pretend it’s nae the point of all this. Sending yer men out, sniffin’ around every hamlet from here to the coast.” Her throat moved with a hard swallow. “Ye’re tryin’ to send her away.”

Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried more than anger. It carried fear.

Kian didn’t like the way it hit him. It was too sharp, too close to something he didn’t want to name. “I’m tryin’ to find answers,” he said, steady but low. “I told ye I wanted them, and I would find them. Daenae pretend that any of this is new information.”

Scarlett’s hands curled into fists, as though that steadiness cost her more than shouting would. “Answers lead to someone knockin’ at the door to claim her. And then what?”

Before he could answer, she shook her head once, sharply, and left the study without another word.

He watched her go, the door closing a little harder than necessary behind her. His chest twisted uncomfortably, but he forced himself to push it aside and looked at Tam. “What’s wrong with Duncan?”

Tam’s mouth twitched, like he was holding back a laugh. “He’s in Oban. Drunk as a cart horse and locked up for insultin’ a laird.”

Kian shut his eyes briefly. “Christ above. How much is owed for his release?”

“Sixty pounds.”

“Sixty! Has the man never been insulted before? What was said?”

Tam’s grin finally broke loose, and he fished out a bit of parchment.

“Apparently Duncan told him his wig looked like it’d been chewed by a goat and spat out.

And when the laird’s wife gasped —” Tam actually had to pause to keep from laughing outright — “Duncan bows all courtly-like and says, ‘And the goat hisself has arrived.’ ”

Kian blinked. “He meant herself , surely?”

Tam shook his head, lips twitching. “Nay, he never corrected it. Just kept right on. Squints at her and says, ‘Oh, gracious — ye’re nae his wife then? Ach, me mistake. Thought ye were a well-kept whore.’ ”

Kian’s bark of laughter came fast and hard before he could stop it, low enough to keep it between them but sharp enough to sting the air. “Christ almighty… it’s a wonder he’s still breathin’.”

“Aye,” Tam agreed cheerfully. “And he only is because he’s one o’ yer men, else the Oban gallows would be swingin’ with his name on it.”

Kian snorted. “Oh aye, or the laird might have had one less bullet in his rifle.”

“Lucky bastard.”

Kian shook his head, the ghost of a smile lingering despite himself. “I’ll write to the laird, pay what’s needed. He’ll be back in time for the festival, God willing.”

Tam sobered. “And the lassie’s family?”

Kian’s mouth tightened. “We’ll look into it all again. After the festival. Once Duncan’s back and we have more information.”

Tam gave a short nod, and Kian waved him away. The room was suddenly too quiet, the faint smell of Scarlett’s perfume still lingering like a memory he couldn’t shake.