“Aye, and she’ll start a war to get it.” Finlay pinched the bridge of his nose. His anger was subsiding, but not completely gone. “Ye ken I never want to marry. Yer uncle kens. Everyone in the Highlands kens.”
Thalia looked down, biting her lip. “Ye’re right. I… I daenae ken what I was thinkin’. I was just scared.”
“Scared?” Finlay asked. “For Daisy?”
“Aye… and for meself.”
Finlay thought about what she had told him, about how Laird MacGibbon had threatened her, and his anger flared again.Except this time, it was aimed at the men who had barged into his castle uninvited. He briefly let himself entertain the thought of going back down there and throwing them both out, or better yet, driving his sword through each of them, but that would only cause more problems.
“Are ye really that scared of him?” he asked instead.
“I hate the way he looks at me,” Thalia snapped.
“How does he look at ye?”
She met his gaze and jutted her chin. “Like he wants to own me. Like I’m a horse that he cannae wait to break. But I’m nae a horse, I’m a woman.”
“Aye, that ye are.”
Finlay couldn’t help the way his eyes roamed over her body. She shifted under his gaze, and he could see her breath quickening in the rise and fall of her chest. The chest that was still squeezed into that too-tight dress.
He approached her, and she stepped back into the desk. There was no fear in her eyes now. There was only curiosity and a hint of excitement.
“So ye would rather have me than him? Is that right?” he asked, leaning in so that her back pressed into the edge of the desk.
“Aye. I’m nae scared of ye.”
“Nay?” He moved closer, testing her resolve, wanting to know just how far he could push her until she pushed back. “And ye think I wouldnae want to own ye? I wouldnae want to possess ye, body and soul?”
She swallowed, and he watched her throat bob. He smirked. Her cheeks were flushed, but still she did not move away.
“It wouldnae be a problem with ye, because we wouldnae actually marry,” she claimed.
“Ah, a fake betrothal then? Is that what ye want from me?” he drawled, leaning in closer still.
“Aye, ye could call it that,” she whispered. He was so close to her now that it wouldn’t take much for either of them to close the distance between them. “Just to get them to settle.”
He could feel her breath against his lips. There was a sweetness like honey on her mouth. He wondered if she’d ever been kissed before, and he wondered if she would taste as sweet as she smelled.
“Nay,” he whispered.
The door to the study creaked open, and they both leaped apart as if they’d been burned by a hot pan.
Daisy poked her head in, her eyes wide. “Faither? Have the Lairds left yet?” she asked.
“Daisy! I told ye to stay in yer room,” Finlay said, walking over to her. “Where’s Rowena?”
“She had to go to relieve herself, and then I snuck out,” she explained. “Am I in trouble?”
He knelt down so that they were at eye level. “It wasnae a very smart thing that ye did. And it seems that yer jest wasnae taken very well.”
Daisy looked away sheepishly. “I didnae mean it to be a jest.”
“Sweetheart, we willnae get married. Ye ken that,” Finlay said gently.
She looked back up at him. “Then why did ye look like ye were goin’ to kiss her?”
Thalia squeaked in surprise, and Finlay tried to keep a straight face as he said, “Well, ye see?—”
