Ian stalked closer and loomed over her. Arianna’s heart pounded louder.
“Ye will obey me, have I nae made that clear enough?” he said, each word deliberate and heavy. “One way or another.”
Arianna straightened, chin high, matching his cold stare. “Aye, ye have made yerself clear, just as I have.”
He smirked. Then he circled her like a predator.
Why does he walk around me so? I will nae be intimidated. So why does me heart pulse so fast?
She felt the shiver move down her spine as she felt his breath on the back of her neck. He came full circle and stopped before her. Arianna met him squarely, her chest rising and falling with controlled breath. He cupped her chin and lifted her gaze to his. He leaned closer. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, fearful he meant to claim her mouth.
“How nicely ye blush, lass,” he growled.
His touch brought a tingle to her skin and a pulse deep within her belly. The feeling, both thrilled and terrified her, so she stepped back from his hold in anger. “Touch me again before we reach understandin', and ye’ll find a fire ye cannot quell.”
Ian’s lips curved into a faint, dangerous smirk. “A fire, eh? Bold and reckless. Ye may yet make this life… interestin'.”
“And ye, beast of a man,” she shot back, “are nay more welcome to me body than I am to yers. Let us see if we can find accord, or if this marriage shall be a battlefield in every sense.” Arianna felt her pulse racing, a mixture of fear and exhilaration. Even in the shadow of the man who would be her husband, she would not bow…yet. The tension hung thick in the room, the air heavy with the promise of war and the thrill of defiance. Two wills, strong and unyielding, faced each other with no room for compromise.
Ian’s one good eye gleamed as he studied her, assessing and amused. “Does the way I look scare ye, lass?”
Arianna lifted her chin, fierce and unwavering. “Nay.”
He nodded once, slow and deliberate, the faintest curl of a smirk brushing his scarred face. “We are to be wed then,” he said, voice low and dangerous, “and may the morrow teach us who holds sway.”
Arianna’s heart raced as she stood her ground, the fire of rebellion sparking within her. In this room, with the beastly, battle-scarred man who was to be her husband, she had drawn the line. And she would not, could not, cross it, not without a fight. The wedding had not yet begun, but the war of wills already raged.
Arianna took a deep breath, feeling her pulse hammer in her chest as Ian’s sharp gaze bore into her. He was both terrifying and magnetic, a storm of strength and scars that made her stomach flutter with nerves. Yet despite the fear curling in hergut, she refused to shrink away. She squared her shoulders, chin high, and met his one eye with unwavering defiance.
“I have a demand of me own,” she said, voice steady though quiet. “We will get to ken each other properly, after the weddin’.” Her words hung in the heavy air, deliberate and firm. She could see the frustration flare across his scarred face, muscles tightening as if she had struck him.
Ian began pacing, long strides across the room, boots clicking sharply against the stone floor. Each movement was deliberate, predatory, and Arianna felt the hairs on her arms rise as though the room itself had grown tense. He reached the table, poured a measure of whisky, and drank it in one long swallow, the amber liquid catching the candlelight. The motion was simple, yet commanding, and reminded her just how beastly and imposing he truly was.
Finally, he stopped, setting the glass down with a measured thud. “Fine,” he said, voice low and edged with reluctant agreement. “If ye wish to ken me, then ye shall have three outin's together but no more than that. I willnae expect anythin' from ye til after those. That will give ye time to become familiar with yer new husband.” He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “That’s all I will give before I expect ye to do yer duty in the marriage bed.”
Arianna’s heart fluttered at the small concession, but she kept her expression calm.
“And the first outin'?” she asked, curiosity threading through her cautious resolve.
Ian’s lips quirked in a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “The day after the weddin',” he said, voice as sharp as a blade.
He stepped toward the door but stopped before it.
“And the last rule, expect nay love from me. Love is neither owed nor promised.”
CHAPTER FOUR
He's far more handsome than expected, and far more frightening,
Arianna let out a shaky breath and sank into the chair beside the table, her legs finally giving way beneath her. The room felt suddenly too quiet after the clash of wills, the air still humming with Ian’s presence. Her hands trembled, so she clasped them in her lap, forcing herself to breathe slow and steady.
The door opened softly, and her mother hurried in, skirts gathered, eyes wide with worry.
“Arianna,” Eilidh said, rushing to her side, “are ye well? I saw him leave and me heart near stopped.”
Arianna looked up and managed a small, reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Mother,” she said. “We were only speakin’ about how to get along better, that’s all.”
Her mother studied her face, searching for signs of harm or fear. “He didnae threaten ye?” Eilidh asked quietly.
