He drew her against him without a word as the music filled the room once more. He was wearing his clan tartan, a fine red and green, and it seemed to bring out the darkness in his smile.
“Let’s see just how well you ken how to play, Lady Innes,” he let out as he swung her around.
She was forced to grab his shoulders to steady herself, and she could not help but notice the strength within them, the muscle that flexed just out of sight. Her heart skipped a beat.
“I told you, I didnae come here to play any games,” she muttered.
She had no need to be polite to him now that she was going along with what he had asked of her in the first place. She could not help but feel that she was being dragged into something that should have stayed between her brother and Isobel.
“I’m no’ the one who brought up such a matter.”
“Yes, but ye’re the one playing it,” she hissed back. “Ye cannae tell me that this has nothing to do with Isobel.”
“I can.”
He slipped his hand to her waist, pulling her close. At the back of her neck, she felt her hair rise and prayed that the heat she felt in her cheeks did not show.
“You would not even have looked in my direction had I not been with them,” she retorted, doing her best to cling to what little composure she had left.
“I couldnae have kept my eyes off ye if I’d tried, lass.”
“Ye’re mad,”
“Aye, maybe I am mad,” he said, drawing her closer all of a sudden. Far closer than was decent, far closer than any man in his position should have been drawing her. “Because even if revenge may taste sweet, ye must taste sweeter, Lady Innes.”
She gasped, her eyes widening as she stepped back from him. Her cheeks were burning scarlet now, and she was sure that everyone in the room must have been able to tell. They could tell that he had said something lewd to her, and worse, they could tell that it had gotten under her skin, even as she tried to pretend that it didn’t…
He brushed past her, leaving the scent of woodsmoke and whiskey in the air. Woodsmoke—was it true what she had heard about him burning a forest to the ground when he had found out he would not get what he so wanted? She felt sick, and when she realized that he seemed to be headed in the direction of her brother, she rushed to catch up with him.
But he paid her no attention as he came to a halt in front of Arthur, who had by now risen to his feet, his face screwed up in fury. Isobel gripped the chair beside him, seemingly unsure of exactly what to make of all of this.
“What did you say to me?” Arthur demanded, his voice low. Innes’ heart dropped. Lachlan, not looking away, leaned closer, flicked his tongue over his lips, and repeated himself.
“I said I am going to take Lady Innes as my wife.”
Chapter One
Arthur’s hand was on his sword before Innes could react as he sprang to his feet.
“Ye take that back, ye wretch?—”
Lachlan did not budge an inch, but Innes dove out to stop her brother, not wanting this to devolve into a fight. She did not know what Lachlan was capable of, and she would never have forgiven herself if something had happened to him because of her.
“Ye’ll take her as a wife over my dead body,” Arthur snarled.
The room was silent, everyone focused on the clash between them. Lachlan’s smile flickered, sharp as the edge of a knife.
“Kill you and take yer sister, you mean?” he remarked, and he cocked his head to the side. “An intriguing proposition, Arthur.”
Gasps sounded around the room. Arthur let out a grunt and pulled his sword out, the flash of the silver in the corner of Innes’ eye bringing her back into the moment.
She dove between the two of them, lifting a hand to press into her brother’s chest. She did not like being so close to Lachlan again, the heat of his breath on her neck. Or perhaps she liked it more than she cared to admit, she was not entirely sure.
“Out of the way, Innes!” Arthur ordered, fingers flexing around his sword. “I cannae let him threaten ye like that.”
“No!” Innes cried out.
She could only imagine what revenge the mad Laird would take on her brother if he dared raise a sword to him. Arthur was kind at heart, without the madness that so seemed to plague his opponent, and she would rather not condemn him to whatever fate Lachlan had tried to coax out of him.
