Page 9 of A Kilted Marriage of Convenience

CHAPTERFIVE

Aidan had no idea what to expect when a maid informed him that Ciara had awakened. Whatever expectations he had were dashed when her hazel eyes met his. It took everything he had not to get lost in them. The first thing he noticed was that her gaze was filled with recognition. As if she knew him.

She seemed to have been shocked by his words, but that shock had quickly turned into horror when she looked down at herself, bringing his attention to her bare legs as well. It was his turn to be shocked when she let out a wail and dove under the covers, hiding from his gaze. He stood there for a few seconds, frozen as he stared at the ball beneath the blankets.

A smile tugged at his lips despite himself. Was this woman mad? He had just announced that he planned to keep her captive, but she was more concerned with what she was wearing. Or not wearing, for that matter.

Aidan cleared his throat. “I wouldnae be so concerned about yer attire, if I were ye. Truth is, it was I who got rid of the clothes ye had before.”

At that, her red head popped out from beneath the covers, and she glared at him, her face pink all the way to her ears from shame. “How c-could ye?” she stammered.

Aidan was fully smiling now. This woman was funny. He took a step forward. Despite being on the bed, she moved backward. Unsurprisingly, she fell off the edge, and it was quite the fall indeed. She yelped and waved her arms, trying to steady herself, causing the blankets to fall to the ground first, and then she tumbled after them, falling on her back with her legs in the air.

He raised an eyebrow, not sure if he should be concerned or laugh. Her legs being up in the air also exposed more to his gaze, and as much as he wanted to pretend to be unaffected, he was verymuch affected. He averted his eyes while she scrambled to sit up. When she was upright again and nursing her bumped head, he walked over to the side of the bed to meet her.

By God, she truly was captivating. Her red curls were more vibrant now that they were dry. He noticed, however, that her hair was matted in spots, caked with sand. She needed a wash. He bent down to her level and touched a finger to her red lips absently, marveling at her features.

It was only when she jerked back that he remembered who he was touching. She looked completely mortified. He pulled his hand away, albeit reluctantly for he did not want to stop teasing her.

“I-I am a lady! Ye shouldnae be touching me so brashly,” she sputtered.

“Och? But I have already tasted yer lips, so I didnae see what harm there was,” he said, smiling when he saw her face blanch.

“Ye brute! What liberties have ye taken with me while I was unconscious?” she cried.

Aidan snorted lightly. If he had truly been a brute, she would not be able to speak to him so boldly. He offered her his hand to help her stand up, but she did not take it. She just glared at him instead and got to her feet of her own accord.

“I daenae need yer help!” Her face was redder than a poppy. “Tell me what ye have done with me!”

Aidan looked at her with an amused expression before getting to his feet as well. “My goodness! What a rude way to speak to yer savior! I suppose it was brutish to haul ye out of the sea and breathe ye back to life. Ach, perhaps it would have been more gentlemanly to allow ye to catch yer death because yer wet, cold clothes could nae be removed. What a brute I am, indeed!”

He was being sarcastic, and he could see the guilt on her flushed face as she looked at the ground. “I apologize. My tongue was too hasty. I ought to thank ye for saving my life, ye’re right,” she said sheepishly.

Aidan raised his eyebrow again. He thought that she would be less agreeable. Was she not as stubborn as he had thought? He found himself thinking that it was a pity, as he would have liked to tease her more.

What are ye doing, Aidan? Ye shouldnae be having a playful conversation with someone ye mean to hold captive. Are ye truly falling for the wiles of a MacNeil?

He chided himself in his head and gave her a smile that did not reach his eyes. She was an enemy.

“If I may ask, Lady Ciara, what was it that brought ye to be in that storm? I see nae way that ye could have been lost at sea with how much yer father dotes on ye,” he said, testing to see if she would lie to him.

Her face twisted subtly, as though she had remembered something unpleasant, but she quickly righted her expression and looked toward the window. “I was simply running an errand for my father. I didnae think it would end this way.”

He could tell easily that she was lying, and it seemed that she herself did not expect him to believe her words. Aidan did not push the matter. He had asked out of curiosity, but it was not like he needed to know. For whatever reason, she had ended up in his hands, and he was not going to let her go. The door opened suddenly, and he instinctively moved to shield her with his body.

A few servants came in carrying a tray of food and a tub of warm water. She seemed a bit confused as she looked up at him. Although he had made fun of her antics earlier, he had to admit that she was poorly dressed, and not everyone needed to see her like that. He cleared his throat, and the servants hurriedly put the things down and left.

“Ye are my captive now, but unlike yer father, I have nae intentions of being cruel to ye,” he said. “Ye may take a bath, change yer clothes, and have a meal. We will speak later.”

* * *

Ciara could not believe her situation. She had already been surprised when she had heard that she was in the MacDonald castle, but now she was being held captive! It seemed that Aidan MacDonald was trying to get revenge on her father by abducting his daughter. He seemed to think that she was important to her father, and that he had no plans of harming her.

She decided to pretend to be upset at being captive until she was sure what she wanted to do—what she could do.

“Ha! Keeping me captive but providing me clean clothing and food! I should fall on my knees and thank ye, my laird. Is that what ye thought I would say? A captive is still a captive, clothed and fed or nae. Dinnae try to make yerself seem righteous,” she said.

“I am certainly more righteous than yer father.” The air around him was tense all of a sudden, and Ciara instinctively took a step back. It seemed she had gone too far and gotten on his nerves. “If I were to treat ye how my sister was treated, I wouldnae be in the wrong, as I would only be giving back what I was given. I would like ye to keep that in mind, lass.” His brow furrowed even more. “Have a pleasant meal.”