Ian snagged her finger with his hand and pulled her against him, pressing his lips to her neck. “Then he will learn wot tae do with it. Tis will only take one time Ida.”
She groaned as his hand slid over her breast before slapping it away and pushing against him, putting some distance between the two of them. “We arena done arguing mah laird.”
He grinned, loving it when she got all riled up at him. “Would ye like tae move this tae our chambers then, wife?” He had missed her today and now his body ached to be buried inside her.
She arched a brow, giving him a haughty look that was befitting of the lady of the keep. “If ye think ye can talk mah into yer bed, mah laird, ye are sorely mistaken.”
“Fine,” he said. She barely let out a squeak as he scooped her up over his shoulder and strode to the stairs, laughing as she beat him on his shoulders. “Ian!” she laughed. “Let mah down!”
He gave her a small pat on her arse, taking two steps at a time. “Come now wife. Tis time for us tae finish this argument.” This was what he loved about his wife, her feistiness that neverseemed to fade even after five years. If nothing else, he loved her more with each passing day.
She was his everything, his life.
“Ye aren’t going tae win this fight!” she shouted as he reached the second landing, moving toward their chambers with some haste now. “Och, Ian Wallace!”
“Keep that anger love,” he told her, a grin on her face. “And take it out on mah when I put ye down.”
Neither showed until dinnertime.
