“Very well,” she said, trying for dignity. “If we must share a room, then the least ye can dae is sleep on the floor.”
Baird turned his head slowly toward her, disbelief written plainly across his face. “The floor?”
“Aye,” she said, lifting her chin. “Ye can sleep here.” She pointed at the generous spread of furs before the hearth.
His brows rose. “Absolutely nae.”
“Why nae?”
“Because,” he said, folding his arms, “I’m nae a dog ye can chase off with a broom.”
Davina blinked. “I never said ye were a dog.”
“Ye implied it,” he said gravely.
“I didnaeimply?—”
“Ye pointed at the floor,” he retorted, as though that ended the argument entirely.
Davina sputtered. “That doesn’t imply dog, it implies…” She flailed her hands in the air trying to come up with a good reason. “That ye would move around too much tae share a bed with someone.”
He gave her a slow, infuriating once-over. “I dinnae move that much in me sleep.”
“I dinnae believe ye,” she said primly.
Baird let out a soft huff of laughter. “Ye’ve kent me six hours.”
“Exactly,” she said, gaining momentum. “Nae nearly long enough tae trust ye not tae sprawl across the entire mattress.”
“I dinnae sprawl.”
“Again,” she said, “I dinnae believe ye.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “I’m the laird. I dinnae sleep on the floor.”
“Ye’re also me husband now,” she countered, “so surely ye could make one small concession fer me comfort, since this is all quite overwhelming.”
His expression softened before he masked it behind a scowl.
“Ye’re playing unfair,” he muttered.
She blinked innocently. “Whatever dae ye mean?”
“That look,” he said simply.
“What look?”
He pointed a finger at her. “That one.”
Davina’s mouth fell open in outrage, which only made him laugh harder.
“I’m nae daeing a look,” she insisted.
“Ye are. It’s the ‘I’m wee and unsettled but determined tae get me way’ look.”
“There is nay such look,” she pouted.
“There is,” he countered. “And it’s very effective… unfortunately.”
