“What is it now?”
“I am not used to gentlemen offering their hands so boldly,” Melody mumbled. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a gentleman try to shake my hand.”
He sighed. “Be grateful I daenae spit in my palm and expect ye to do the same. That’s the traditional way of sealin’ an agreement. Besides, I am nae a gentleman, so it’ll do ye nay good to expect me to act like one.”
She glowered at him. “You are a terrible host, Laird MacDean.”
“So I’ve been told. Now, will ye agree to me terms? Pretend to be me bride-to-be for one month only, and in return, ye can paint me portrait to take back to yer wee friends back home. How does that sound?”
Melody chewed her lower lip. The ridge of the desk nudged against her back, and Callum had advanced until he wasveryclose to her. She could smell leather and mint again.
“What… What cologne do ye wear?” she asked, the words coming out as a faint squeak.
He stared at her, utterly baffled. “What?”
“Your cologne. What is it?”
“I daenae… daenae wear cologne. I’m a man, I daenae care for perfumes. Lass, ye are avoidin’ the question here, and I daenae like it.”
She breathed in, closing her eyes. “I cannot stay here for amonth. My reputation would be ruined.Iwould be ruined! I’m sorry that I cannot help you, but really, this will not do.”
She made to dart past him, ducking around and hurrying toward the door. She’d made ittothe door when his hand came slamming into the wood, just above the handle, on level with her eyes. Swallowing, Melody glanced behind her. He was rightthere, inches away, with those wolfish eyes blazing. An odd, prickling heat spread in her chest. It did not seem like fear, but something new and unfamiliar.
“Perhaps I was nae clear,” Callum said heavily. “I wasnaeaskin’, lass. Ye have a choice. Ye can stay here for a month, in the dungeons, as yer punishment for trespassin’ and breakin’ into me Keep. Me councilors might even begin to fret that ye are a spy. Or, ye can do me a good favor, and pretend to be me betrothed for that same month. I’ll ask nay more of ye than yer pretence. The choice is yers, but goin’ home is nae really an option for ye right now.”
Melody’s heart beat so hard that it nearly climbed out of her chest. She swallowed again—heavens, her throat was dry. Perhaps it was that thick porridge she’d eaten—and forced a weak smile.
“Oh, I see. Well, in that case, Laird MacDean, I’d be happy to oblige.”
He grunted, pulling back, and extended his hand.
“Shake on it,” he said, and it didnotsound like a request.
She tentatively extended her hand. Strong, thick fingers wrapped around hers, a calloused, rough palm pressing against her skin. His hand seemed to be at least double the size of hers, and she had the feeling that if he wished, he could snap her bones with just an idle flex of that hand.
It was, quite simply, an entirely novel experience for her. And of course, neither of them was wearing gloves, allowing skin to touch skin. A tingle spread up her arm, almost like pins and needles, but not quite so painful. He released her hand abruptly, and she still felt the tingling sensation.
“Well, then,” Callum said brusquely. “We have a bargain. I’ll hold ye to it, lass.”
5
“Where are we going, then?” Melody gasped, struggling to catch up with Callum. Her hand still felt warm from his grasp. Thatwasa little confusing. While gentlemen, of course, did not offer their ungloved hands so boldly to ladies, there were plenty of times when she had taken a gentleman’s hand in the past. During a dance, perhaps, or when climbing out of the carriage. She could not ever remember feeling so powerfully affected by it.
It’s just the situation we are in,she told herself firmly.It really means nothing at all.
“We’re goin’ to the Council Room,” Callum answered grimly. “Say as little as ye can. They’re unlikely to ask ye questions, but it’s best to be safe rather than sorry. Let me do the talkin’.”
They reached a large, square door set deep in the stone and studded with iron. Abruptly, Callum whirled around to face her,eyes narrowed. Melody skidded to a halt, very nearly bumping into his broad chest.
“If this betrothal is discovered to be false,” he whispered, an edge of menace in his voice. “Then ye will spend the rest of yer month in the dungeon. Do ye understand? It’s in yer best interests to be a convincin’ betrothed. Understand?”
Melody blinked. “Does… This surely doesn’t mean that you’re going to try andkissme, are you?”
Now, what on earth had made her say that? Melody felt heat inch through her face. Callum stared at her for a moment, then his face relaxed. The corners of his lips tugged in a way thatcouldhave been an almost-smile, although naturally, there was no real curve of his lips at all. Melody had not seen him smile, not once. There had not even been any expression on his face beyond blankness, annoyance, and displeasure.
“Nay, I willnae kiss ye. Nae unless ye want me to kiss ye, that is.”
“What? I… You… Certainlynot!” Melody stammered. The corner of his mouth twitched again, just once. Then he turned on his heel, shoving open the door, and strode inside.
