CHAPTER NINE
" W ill he be ill?" Nicholas asked his healer.
"I daenae believe so. His fever has broken. I think ‘twas the mere exhaustion of his journey and nothin’ more. He should be as right as he was soon enough," the healer said.
Nicholas lingered for a moment in the doorway of his son’s room, his eyes flicking over the small figure tucked under the covers. He had checked on Charles more than once since his return, making sure the boy was all right.
The child’s steady breathing brought some sense of calm to his troubled mind. With a final look at his son, Nicholas turned to leave and headed down the corridor.
His mind was rife with so many words he could not separate them.
What of the girl? Why did Oscar do this to him?
The rage built inside of him was ready to explode. He turned the corner and collided with someone.
Alexandra stood before him, her eyes wide in surprise. The soft fabric of her dress had shifted, and part of her bosom peeked out from beneath the loosened lace.
Nicholas’s breath caught in his throat as his gaze locked onto her exposed skin, desire flaring within him like wildfire. He quickly looked away, trying to regain control, but the temptation to pull her closer, to claim what was rightfully his, was almost unbearable.
Alexandra, noticing his lingering glance, spoke, “Excuse me. Nae, I take that back it is ye who ran into me, ye should apologize.”
“Apologize? In me own castle? Ye have a tongue that forgets I am the one has captured ye. Daenae think that simply cause I let ye roam the castle halls that ye are free to speak to me in such a way,” he said.
Without realizing it, he stepped closer with every word he spoke, closing the distance. His eyes drifting over her heaving breasts.
“Nay, I dinnae forget that I am yer captive. How can I forget? Every mornin’ I wake I am reminded of this mess. But it doesnae have to be. Let me and Erica go, O’Donnell. We’ve got nae part in the lad’s abduction.” Her voice was firm, but there was a tremble to it, as if she feared his response.
Nicholas, however, was unmoved by her words, his expression cold as he continued stepping closer, closing the space between them.
Why must she always be in front of me? Does she nae ken I fight to restrain meself?
“That doesnae matter,” he said with a rasp in his voice, his gaze hardening.
"It does matter?" she fought back. "The reason ye brought me here nay longer applies?" she asked.
“I have a new reason,” he said.
“And what would that reason be?” she asked.
“Whatever I damn well want it to be, lass,” he groaned.
He lightly caressed her cheek. He watched as she sucked in a breath of air in shock and stepped back.
“How dare ye say such a thing to me? Ye willnae touch me,” she said.
“We shall see about that,” he said.
“Nay we will nae see about it. I am nae yers to touch or do what ye will,” she said.
Frustrated by her lingering scent, the way his body responded to her, he knew he needed to step away or lose control.
"Move out of me way, lass. I business to attend to," he said.
However, his words did not persuade her as he tried to step around her, she blocked his path and bumped her chest against his accidentally in the process. The movement sent the laces undone, and her creamy pale cleavage was revealed to him.
His eyes moved to those damn laces that he wanted to untie with his teeth so badly.
"Ye daenae need me as yer leverage to retrieve yer son," she said. "Ye have nay use for me, Robertson. Let me go, ye beast!"
His gaze moved over her heaving breasts as she spat fire at him with her venomous words. His last thread of restraint left him.
“I’ve another use for ye now,” he groaned.
Before she could protest, he reached out, gripping her wrist firmly and pushing her back against the cold stone wall of the hallway. He heard her gasp at the suddenness of his touch. Her eyes wide with shock and confusion as he towered over her.
His lips hovered down her neck and over her cleavage but he did not press them against her skin, merely his breath caressing her.
"Marry me," Nicholas said, his voice low and intense, "and be a maither to me son." His words were blunt, leaving no room for misunderstanding.
“What?” she snapped. “What do ye mean marry ye?”
“What I said, lass. Ye think I speak lies? Be me wife,” he said.
“But…I… Ye cannae be true with yer request,” she stammered, her voice betraying her confusion.
"I am as true as can be, lass," he said.
“I… Nay, I cannae do such a thing. I was already set to be wed to another before ye took me. I?—”
But Nicholas’s face remained hard, his expression unwavering, and he interrupted her before she could finish.
“Better to be married to me than to a mad dog like Leo Rankin,” he said, his voice filled with dark amusement.
“Ye daenae ken what ye speak. I am nae marryin’ Leo out of love. I’m marryin’ him out of duty. This is me choice,” she snapped, her tone sharp and resolute. “And I’ll nae let ye take it from me.”
He felt her try to pull away from him, but his hand remained firmly around her wrist, preventing her from retreating.
Nicholas stood mere inches away from her, his breath mingling with hers in the dimly lit hallway. He watched her chest rise and fall with each sharp intake of breath, and he couldn’t ignore the way her lips parted slightly, as if waiting for him to make the next move.
She hadn’t pulled away, which told him more than words ever could. Her defiance was still there, but so was the spark of something else—something he was willing to fan into flame.
“Ye think ye can stand there and scold me like that, do ye? Do ye forget I’ve taken ye as prisoner? I have captured ye and ye will obey me.”
He let his eyes roam over her face, watching the flush spread across her cheeks, and couldn’t help but smirk at the effect he was having on her.
“I willnae obey ye. I daenae want to be anywhere near ye,” she said.
“If ye didn’t want me to be so close, ye wouldnae be standin’ so near me, lass.”
He saw Alexandra’s eyes narrow, but she didn’t pull back. Instead, she crossed her arms. “Och, ye think yer presence bothers me?” she replied, her tone laced with sarcasm.
“Ye’re clever, I’ll give ye that, but daenae try to fool me.
I can see the way ye watch me— like ye’re lookin’ for somethin’.
Maybe ye daenae want to admit it, but I can feel it.
” He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her skin longer than necessary, just to see how she’d react.
Alexandra’s breath caught, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she tilted her head and met his gaze, her defiance stronger than ever. “Aye, I’m watchin’ ye, but nae for the reasons ye think,” she said, voice low but steady. “Ye think ye can win me over just by being a brute?”
“A brute?” Nicholas’s lips curled into a playful sneer.
“Ye’ve called me that before, lass. But if ye think I’m just some brute who’s out to scare ye, ye’re wrong.
” He took another step forward, his chest brushing against hers, and her breath hitched in her throat.
“I’d call it more of a…a test, if ye will. ”
“A test?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Och, ye’ve got me all confused now. I thought I was just a prize to ye, somethin’ to be won to use as leverage.” Her voice held an edge, but Nicholas could see the flicker of curiosity in her eyes.
“Maybe ye are a prize,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “But every prize deserves to be earned. And ye, Alexandra, are worth more than just a mere glance. I’ll make ye see that— whether ye like it or nae.”
“Ye think ye can wear me down, Nicholas? Make me give in to yer charms?” she asked, her voice thick with challenge. “I’m nae one to be swayed so easily, no matter how hard ye try. I have me duty to me brother."
Nicholas leaned in, his lips a breath away from her ear.
“Try me, lass,” he murmured, his words a promise and a dare all at once.
“I’ve yet to meet a woman who could resist me, and I’m nae about to start losin’ now.
” His breath fanned across her skin, and he felt the subtle shiver that ran through her, knowing she felt the same pull he did.
“Ye should know yer place, lass,” he whispered, each syllable deliberate and heavy with intent.
Her body tensed, but there was no fight in her—only a sharp awareness that electrified the air between them.
His hand, still resting on the curve of her jaw, slid down to her neck, his thumb brushing over her skin as he held her still.
Without waiting for a response, Nicholas’s lips found hers in a sudden, bruising kiss. It was fierce, a clash of desire and dominance, the kind that left no room for indecision.
Alexandra gasped, her body momentarily stiff. Then he felt her responding, her hands fisting the fabric of his shirt as she was drawn into the storm of him. The kiss deepened, and Nicholas could taste the defiance still lingering on her lips, though it was softened by the pull he had over her.
He pulled away just enough to catch his breath, his lips barely brushing hers as he spoke in a low growl. “I warned ye,” he murmured, his voice rough with restraint, “ye daenae ken what ye’re up against.”
“Ye’re a stubborn man,” she said, her voice softer now, though still edged with the defiance he’d come to expect from her. “But I’m nae a woman who’ll be claimed so easily.”
“But yer resistance... it’s just makin’ it all the more enjoyable.” He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, a silent promise lingering in the space between them, before leaning in to kiss her again.
This time, his kiss was gentler, more coaxing, as if he were testing her, waiting for her to crumble.
He felt Alexandra lean into it, her fingers curling into his shirt as the tension in her body melted into something else—something deeper, darker, and undeniably consuming.
Her response came with a quiet surrender, a softening of her lips beneath his as he let himself feel what he had been denying for far too long.
When he finally pulled back, it was with effort, his chest rising and falling with the intensity of his own unspent desire.
He held her gaze, watching the flush of her cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her breath.
“That’s better,” he said softly, his voice a mix of satisfaction and challenge.
“Ye see now, don’t ye? Ye belong to me.”
“Ye’re a fool if ye think a simple kiss means I’ll fall into yer hands as a bride,” she said, though the words lacked the sharpness they once held.
“Then prove me wrong, lass,” Nicholas said, his eyes glinting with challenge as he took a step back, allowing her space. “But ken this—ye may fight me, but in the end, ye’ll see I was right.”