Page 14 of Wedded to the Heartless Highlander

The oaky smell gave him away first, but she let her hands trail over the layers covering his hard torso before she dropped them to her sides.

“Laird MacKinnon,” she sighed, dipping her head.

“Hmm,” he hummed and moved into the dim light of the keep. “Where are ye headed at this hour, lass?” he asked knowingly.

Erica wrapped her hand around the pouch dangling at her side and steeled herself. “Anywhere but here.” She lifted her chin, her eyes flashing with defiance. “Ye won a game. It doesnae mean ye wonme. I’m nae a prize.”

Hunter’s answering dark chuckle sent a shiver down her spine. “So, ye run in the dead of night like a fugitive escapin’ a sentence.”

“I am nay man’s possession to be won or owned,” she snapped, taking a step back as he stepped forward. She held his gaze, refusing to let him see the way her knees trembled. “Marryin’ ye would be a sentence.”

“Is that what ye think?” he murmured, his voice somehow dropping to a husky whisper. He was close now, too close as he continued. “That I see ye as a prize?”

“Aye,” she hissed.

“Nay, lass. I dinnae see ye as a prize. Ye dinnae understand because ye are too naïve to the ways of the world. Stuck in yer own head.”

“I am nae! I ken well enough what the competition was for. I just dinnae agree with it. It doesnae make a good, strong match. How can it, when the two dinnae even ken each other? It is all about how strong the man is, and nothing about the bride-to-be. I’m meant to just sit there and accept me fate? Nay.” In the middle of her argument, Erica had managed to put a significant amount of space between them.

Hunter took a step toward her. “Ah, but ye also participated in the competition inside the keep, or did ye nae see that?”

“Inside the keep? What are ye on about?”

“Did ye nae think that the cèilidh, the dinners, the dresses ye wore, the conversations ye had were yer opportunity to prove that ye were a good, strong match for the men present?”

“I—”

Me? Prove that I am a good match?

Laird MacKinnon closed the distance between them, not giving her an opportunity to refute him. “And did ye nae think that the men picked up on how drawn to others ye may or may nae have been? Who ye talked to, looked at, and watched?”

Looked at? Watched? I…

Erica took another step back, unable to gather her thoughts to make a sound argument. “Well, I?—”

“Ye were in competition as well, lass. Dinnae make yerself out to be a lamb in the lion’s den. We’re all lions here,” he said with finality, closing the distance between them again.

He was inches away from her now, and she couldn’t even muster a response to what he said. The only thing swirling behind her stark green eyes were his last words.“We’re all lions here.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow when she remained silent. “Now that ye ken what this competition was truly about, that ye had a part in at as well, I feel even better about winnin’.”

“Why?”

“Two wins are always better than one.”

She scowled. “Am I supposed to be grateful?” she bit out, her words dripping with venom.

Hunter dipped his chin slightly, ready for the challenge.

“Nay,” he said simply.

He ran a hand through his hair lazily, as if he already knew where the conversation was headed.

“Whydidye even come?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest in protest.

Silence fell over them for a moment, before he finally said, “I have come to win a bride. It didnae have to be ye.”

It didnae have to be me? Then why is he here?