Page 5 of The Icy Highlander’s Virgin (Highlanders’ Feisty Brides #4)

CHAPTER FIVE

" Y e're quite confident for someone who just agreed to play against a Galloway," Lachlan said, arranging his cards with casual ease.

"Am I?" Erica countered, studying her hand with careful attention. "Perhaps ye're just nae as skilled as ye think."

The teasing note in her voice surprised him. Gone was the trembling, terrified woman from earlier. This was someone completely different—sharp, witty, confident. It was as if the simple act of removing her formal jewelry had stripped away her fears along with the trappings of ceremony.

"Careful, lass," he warned, though he was grinning as he played his first card. "Pride comes before a fall."

"Does it?" She countered his play effortlessly, laying down a card that made him reassess his strategy. "And here I thought it came before victory."

As the game progressed, Lachlan found himself increasingly impressed. Erica didn't just play well—she played brilliantly. Her face remained carefully neutral, but he caught the calculating gleam in her dark eyes as she studied not just her cards, but him.

"Where did ye learn to play like this?" he asked, genuinely curious as she countered another of his moves.

"Ada taught me," she said, discarding with practiced ease. "She said a good card player learns to read people, nae just cards. And people always reveal more than they think they do."

"And what am I revealin'?"

She looked up at him then, her eyes sparkling with mischief that transformed her entire face. "That ye're accustomed to winnin' through force rather than finesse. Ye play like a warrior—bold, aggressive, assumin' yer opponent will be intimidated by yer stance."

"Am I wrong to assume that?"

"Usually, nay. But tonight... tonight ye're playin' a McLaren."

Lachlan had to admire her confidence, even as he began to suspect he was in serious trouble. She played another card, and he realized that she was systematically dismantling his strategy. She played with a strategic mind that frankly impressed him more than he cared to admit.

"I will have to remind ye that ye are nay longer McLaren, wife. Besides, ye're enjoyin' this far too much," he observed, watching her eyes light up as she drew a particularly favorable card.

"Ah. I will always be a McLaren. Nothin' will change that. Besides, nae bein' a McLaren defeats the very purpose of the marriage. I need more power." She played another card with practiced ease, then looked up at him with sparkling eyes.

"By the way, why shouldnae I enjoy the game?" she asked innocently. "It's nae often I get to match wits with someone who actually provides a challenge.”

"A challenge?" He raised an eyebrow. "Lass, I'll have ye ken I've never lost a game of cards in me life."

"Well," she said, laying down a sequence that made his stomach drop, "there's a first time for everythin'."

The woman was absolutely ruthless. She played with the precision of a master strategist, keeping up a steady stream of banter that would have had most men laughing despite themselves, all while quietly and efficiently destroying any hope he had of victory.

Lachlan kept his expression carefully neutral, though he was grudgingly impressed by her sharp wit and strategic mind.

"How long have ye been plannin' this?" he asked as she played yet another perfect card.

"Plannin' what?"

"Me complete and utter humiliation."

Her laugh was warm and genuine, the sound filling the chamber with something that felt remarkably like joy. "Since the moment ye suggested cards, if I'm bein' honest."

"Devious little thing, arenae ye?"

"I prefer to think of meself as... strategic."

When she laid down her final card with a flourish, Lachlan could only stare at the table, then at her triumphant face. She'd won, and she'd done it so smoothly he'd barely seen it coming until it was far too late.

"Well played," he said, genuine admiration in his voice. "I havenae been outmaneuvered like that since... well, ever."

"Thank ye." She leaned back in her chair, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. The transformation was remarkable—this confident, playful woman bore little resemblance to the terrified bride he'd carried into their chambers. "I do believe I'll make good use of this wish."

Something dangerous flickered in his eyes at her words, a heat that made the air between them suddenly feel charged. "Just be careful what ye ask for, lass—for I willnae be responsible for me actions otherwise."

The warning in his voice made her pulse quicken, but she didn't back down. If anything, she seemed emboldened by it. "And why would that be?"

His smile was pure predator, all sharp edges and dangerous promise. "Because if yer wish tempts me as much as yer sharp wit, I'll have ye beggin' on yer knees for me, love."

Lachlan knew the words were unexpected, and he'd used them deliberately to shock her. He enjoyed the way her eyes widened, and she sucked in her breath.

He smiled, certain no man had ever spoken to his new wife with such raw, confident sensuality, and he wondered why she stared at him so, and whether her entire body responded to his words.

"I... ye... that's..." she stammered, her usual composure completely shattered.

"Shocked, are ye?" he asked, sitting back with obvious satisfaction at her reaction. "Good. Ye should ken exactly what kind of man ye've married.

"And what kind is that?" she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

"The kind who gets what he wants," he said simply. "Always."

The charged moment stretched between them, heavy with unspoken promises and dangerous possibilities. Lachlan saw her eyes move to his mouth, and his own eyes lingered on her full lips, wondering what it would feel like to run his lips all over her skin, to suck each finger with his tongue?—

Lachlan held her gaze, letting his eyes tell her the things he could do to her when the time came. They stared at each other for a long moment before she turned away.

"I should... we should get some rest," she said abruptly, rising from her chair with unsteady legs.

"Aye," he agreed, though his eyes never left her face. "Tomorrow marks our first official day as husband and wife."

Lachlan moved to the large bed, but instead of climbing in, he began arranging pillows and blankets on the floor near the fireplace. He glanced up to see Erica staring at him, eyes glistering.

"The bed is yers, lass." he said quietly, not looking at her as he made his makeshift sleeping area. "I'll be close enough if ye need anythin', but far enough away that ye can rest easy."

"Thank ye," she whispered, touched by his consideration.

Lachlan could hear her changing behind the privacy screen, acutely aware of her presence just beyond the thin barrier, and the fact that at some point she was totally naked. By the time she emerged, he was already settled by the fire, his back turned to give her privacy.

"Goodnight, wife," he said softly, his voice carrying through the quiet chamber.

"Goodnight, husband," she replied, clearly unfamiliar with this new life.

Lachlan tried to settle down, but sleep eluded him. He turned so he lay staring at the fire, his body taut with awareness of the woman in his bed. Every soft sound she made—the whisper of sheets, a quiet sigh—sent heat shooting through his veins.

The way she'd looked at him during their card game, the spark of intelligence in her eyes, the unexpected laughter... she was nothing like what he'd expected.