Page 56 of In Bed with her Highland Foe

She may reject him yet.

“He could scarcely talk of anything else today,” she muttered, still sketching hard. Her eyes occasionally flitted up to him, before turning back down to the page. “I had tae wear another one of those ridiculous gowns, me head itchy from all those pins,” she scratched her temple distractedly, “and looking like a trussed-up chicken more than a woman.”

“Ye look beautiful as ye are, Kyven. Ye dinnae need tae wear the things the council think will impress Laird Shay.”

She paused with her pencil, toying with it between her hands as she looked up at him.

“Ye said…” She closed her eyes, looking down again.

“I meant it,” his voice was firm. “Dinnae be someone ye’re nae, Kyven. Nae fer any man. They’re nae worth it.”

She smiled rather sadly, returning to her drawing again.

“And if ye dinnae wish tae marry him, then dinnae.”

She stopped once again.

“The council insist I marry soon,” she whispered, scarcely aloud.

“The clan has survived so long without a laird.” He shrugged. “If ye run this clan alone, ye’ll still have me, ye’ll have Aaden, and ye have an entire battalion of men who are ready tae defend this clan until other clans realize ye arenae weak running yers alone.”

“Ye seem tae believe in me.” She sank down onto her haunches on the hearth rug. “Few others dae.”

“Perhaps because I ken ye better than most dae,” he observed. “Ye certainly ken me better than most after seeing so much of me today.” His words made her laugh under her breath.

The lifting of her cheeks was what he had been longing for, a chance to see her happy and not so worried.

“What are ye drawing?” he asked, watching her hesitate. She seemed to toy with the idea of showing him then lifted the paper and turned it to face him. “Me?” He leaned forward in shock.

The sketch was only just begun, and yet within a few lines she had captured his profile quite magnificently. It was unmistakably his face, the sharp line of his jaw and his eyes.

“There is just one problem with it,” he whispered.

“There is?” She turned it back to face her, chewing her lip in concern. He longed to stop her doing that, to bite her lip playfully for her.

“I dinnae look happy there.”

“Ye are wounded!” she reminded him, throwing down the paper.

“Aye, still, I am happy in this room.” He reached for one of the books beside him on the table.

“I have always been happy in this room,” she whispered, not looking at him but at the paper. “With ye.”

Did he imagine those words? No, she had absolutely said them. He smiled, though she was still refusing to look at him.

“Would ye like me tae read?” he offered, falling into their old natural rhythm.

“Aye, dae,” she pleaded.

He put down the book he had been attempting to read and reached for another one he had placed in the stack of books. It was a more daring title, one of those books that often was hidden in the back of a library such as this one, so it could rarely ever be found.

He opened the book up, glancing at Kyven as she continued to sketch him. His stomach knotted nervously as he decided to take Aaden’s advice. This book had sections that were truly illicit indeed. He knew that, but would Kyven permit him to read them aloud?

He began to read, starting with a scene that was rather mundane at first, then things progressed between the two characters.

“He followed her tae the chamber, his hand in hers, drawn by her persistent grasp, neither one of them pulling away,” he hesitated, glancing at Kyven again.

She had paused in her drawing now, the pencil hovering over the sketch of him.