Page 41 of The Highlander’s Hellion Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #1)

“ I want to make ye me Lady.”

Ceana must be hearing things. She must have slipped somewhere in her mad escape from what was supposed to be her wedding, hit her head, and now she was hallucinating. There was simply no other way to explain how such a man—a laird , no less—was crouching down in front of her, offering to marry her.

The Laird was perhaps the most handsome man she had ever seen in her life. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a face straight out of a painting. Long dark hair that fell around his face and brushed his sharp jawline in a way that made her want to touch it. His hands, even though they were calloused, still held her with tenderness. But it was his eyes that mesmerized her—like emeralds, with flecks of yellow when the candlelight hit them.

Ceana’s first instinct was to laugh, to pinch herself for being so foolish as to pass out. Unless this was real… in which case, this couldn’t be happening. It was preposterous.

“Why would ye want to do that?” she half laughed, half-whispered as she slowly drew back her hands.

“Can I nae just want to help ye and me braither?” he asked with a hint of sarcasm.

“All men want something in return,” she pointed out flatly.

There, now it was starting to feel more like a genuine offer.

Blaine had been hesitant to agree at the beginning. The fact that he was the only man she had ever met who she didn’t think was going to take advantage of her was exactly the reason she had asked him in the first place. However, perhaps that was only because he never intended to follow through on his promise.

“And what did me braither ask for in return?” the Laird asked, his eyebrows arched.

She couldn’t hold his gaze. She turned her head and started to move away, but the hand that had touched her so gently just a moment ago gripped her chin roughly and yanked her back to look at him. Now, she was forced to face the uncomfortable position that she had put herself into.

She could claim that Blaine wished for nothing and then explain that , or lie to her Laird and risk insulting him.

Unable to look away, Ceana was at risk of losing herself in the Laird’s eyes. She pursed her lips, staring up at him defiantly. Were he anything less than a laird, she would have wrenched herself free and probably slapped him in the face. She balled her hands into angry fists. It felt like he was testing her for reasons that she couldn’t fathom.

“Just state yer price, M’Laird,” Ceana gritted out. “Ye must ken about me family’s situation. So, what are yer expectations of this marriage?”

The Laird dropped his hand, and she resisted the urge to rub her jaw.

Why did he look so skeptical? There was no point in avoiding the issue when she could cut straight to the heart of things. He was the one who made the offer anyway!

“I never thought me braither would end up with such a feisty, little thing,” he said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Try as she might, she couldn’t resist the urge to roll her eyes at him.

“Ye are right, of course. I would never marry if I had nay use for ye,” the Laird continued, his forearms resting on his knees. “But before we seal the deal, ye must agree to all me rules…”

Rules?

“Ye think I’m just goin’ to blindly agree to yer rules and nae have any of me own?”

He didn’t answer her. He stood in a motion far too fluid for a man that large and muscular. He offered her a hand so that he could help her to her feet, but she didn’t need his help. It was bad enough that she found herself begging for a man’s help when she wished that she could resolve the issue on her own.

With an amused laugh, the Laird motioned for her to take the seat across from his desk. She considered not complying just so that she could feel the smallest bit of control over the situation. But running so far…

With a grimace, she sat in the chair he had indicated.

The Laird walked back to his desk and then leaned against it. He pulled a sheet of paper toward himself while watching her in a way that made her skin tingle.

“One, ye must raise me daughter like a Lady.”

Ceana blinked. She had intended to sit there and sulk, but she could not help herself. “Yer daughter?”

He lifted a finger and pressed it to her lips to silence her as he shook his head softly.

“Two, ye must nae interrupt me,” he continued.

The Laird was enjoying this far too much. Anger started to bubble up inside her at being silenced like that. When she was quiet, he raised another finger.

“Three, ye must nae bother me nor make demands of me. Nay seekin’ me out unless it’s about me daughter or our castle.”

Ceana didn’t know what to make of that one. It sounded more like he wanted a nursemaid than an actual wife. They would be wed but they wouldn’t see one another? She supposed that might be a suitable option. She would at least get to have time to herself if nothing else.

She had never truly given extensive thought to having a child of her own, nor to being a mother. But how hard could it be? She had a hand in raising Peter, and she had helped her mother with everything… Certainly, it could not be that difficult.

“Four, ye must give me an heir.”

That caught her attention.

Ceana’s eyes flickered to him, suddenly more alert than she had been a moment ago. It would be expected, of course. She would have to have an heir—he was a laird and only had a daughter.

“And in exchange for all of that, ye’ll have whatever reasonable freedoms me title can provide.”

Silence fell between them for a long while after he finished speaking. When it was obvious that he wasn’t going to add any more rules, she leaned forward, ready to bargain and argue with him as needed. It was only going to be a contract, after all. He could promise her freedom and take it away in the next moment.

“I’ll be happy to help ye with yer bairn,” Ceana answered easily. “I already have a braither whom I love dearly. That’ll be nay issue.” She paused to consider for a moment, a smirk curving her lips. “And I bet the poor lass is in need of female company if she spends all of her time with an insufferable man like ye.”

His smile faded as she spoke. It felt a little bit more like she was closer to victory in this matter.

Before she could say anything else, he lifted his hand. “Five, ye are nae to talk back to me. Ye should obey me.”

“I’d rather die,” she muttered instantly.

The Laird’s smirk returned. He watched her carefully for a long moment in a way that made her squirm in her seat. He leaned forward, encroaching on her personal space.

She was sorely tempted to lean away or to move back in her chair to keep some distance between them. But if he was trying to make her uncomfortable, she wasn’t going to let him win again. It might be a white marriage, but there was no way she was going to lose herself in it.

His face was only an inch from hers, and her heart leaped into her throat as she gripped the arms of her chair. She couldn’t allow herself to break eye contact. What was the point? Was he going to… Certainly not. He wouldn’t kiss her like this, would he?

She lifted her chin.

She must be insane. Touched in the head.

He didn’t kiss her. He turned his head at the last moment to whisper in her ear, his voice deep and husky in a way that sent goosebumps all over her body. When he spoke, his lips grazed the shell of her ear, and his breath ruffled her hair.

“Ye’re sure? Ye might like it.”

All of the air was sucked out of the room.

She felt as if her mind was swimming. But her stubbornness, mercifully, won out.

“I wouldnae want to seek ye out nor talk to ye, even without yer little rules,” she spat, wishing that it sounded more convincing. “If ye have a library here, ye probably willnae hear from me again!” She crossed her arms over her chest to create more space between them. “As for the heir…”

Oh Lord above, she needed to stop blushing so furiously. She felt as if her face was about to burst into flames at any moment.

She had never had this problem before. She was not a girl prone to blushing and stammering.

“I willnae lie with ye unless I’m sure me family is taken care of. Ye must have heard about our… condition. I want our debts cleared, so me maither can keep her home, and I want the distillery to keep runnin’ until me braither is of age and can take over.”

The Laird arched an eyebrow as he leaned back against his desk once more. “Is that it, then?”

Ceana nodded. “Yes. That’s me only condition.”

“So… ye’d sell yerself for money?”

She balked. The way he said it was just so lewd . If she could have reached him, she would have slapped him soundly for that comment. She wouldn’t have let him stop her either. But she kept thinking about her mother’s face. The pure embarrassment that had shadowed her eyes as Ferguson staggered out of their cottage.

If this was what she needed to do so she would never see that look on her mother’s face again, then it was a small price to pay.

“I would sell meself so me family doesnae have to suffer the same fate as me!”

Perhaps that was a bit too harsh.

“Dinnae fash yerself about such things, Ceana,” the Laird said simply. “Ye and yer family will receive a monthly allowance.” He waved a hand as if it was such a simple matter that it should have been obvious to her. “This isnae a prison, me dear. I told ye, I intend to make ye me wife, and I meant it.”

“I… I dinnae ken what to say,” she murmured. “Thank ye, M’Laird. Since… since it is all arranged, then I expect to hear from ye soon?”

She rose to her feet, nodding her head politely in his direction and intending to leave, but he grabbed her by the upper arm to stop her. He was still standing so close to her that she could feel his breath on her skin.

“We’re nae done yet. I need ye to understand that ye will be mine, Ceana. I’ll expect ye to make yerself available to me at any time in the first month, anywhere I like, to perform yer wifely duties.”

It was barbaric, the way he was commanding her time. And yet she was flustered all the same. It made no sense. She couldn’t look away. She ought to yank her arm free… and yet she couldn’t stop picturing what it might be like to lie with a man like him.

“And after the first month?”

“Well, we’ll wait and see if ye’re expectin’. If nae, then we’ll just keep tryin’.”

His eyes roamed over her in a way that made her feel as if she were overheating. Something coiled inside her with promise.

Until he spoke again.

“And when ye do have me bairn, we can go on livin’ separate lives.”