Married to the Icy Highlander (Unwanted Highland Wives #3)

Chapter 11

11

“ W ell, she is about as subtle as a brick, is she nae?” Ceana remarked with a laugh, hoping to break some of the tension between them. She knew that this was something she had asked for, but now that she was alone with him, she was not entirely certain what to do next. “I dinnae ken where her discretion comes from, but it might need some work.”

Neil could not have looked more uncomfortable if he tried.

“I will have a word with her, then,” he said flatly as he made to stand. But she could not have that either. She didn’t want him to go. “Have a good night.”

What? No, that wasn’t at all what she had meant. She didn’t think that Jeanie meant any harm. She was just being a girl. Ceana likely would have done the same if she were in Jeanie’s shoes. Though she was very fortunate that she had witnessed her parents fall madly in love with one another over and over again.

The example her parents had set for her was a fairytale love. Sickeningly embarrassing, in her younger self’s opinion. But looking back at it now, she had nothing but fond memories of them together. She had learned hard work from her father and compassion from her mother.

Though she had yet to see which traits Jeanie had inherited from her father. Apart from perhaps her stubbornness when she put her mind to something.

It would be a shame for Neil to leave when Jeanie had just given them this opportunity to get to know each other better.

Ceana nearly fell over herself as she tried to stop him. She caught the hem of his kilt and tugged on it, forcing him to land heavily on his arse. Despite how amusing the undignified look on his face was, she forced herself not to laugh.

“Do ye truly have to go so quickly?”

Neil quirked an eyebrow. “Is there something in particular that ye wish to say to me, wife?”

She knew what he was angling for. She could feel it in his accusatory tone, and there was absolutely no denying that it was tempting. Her body reacted to the mere suggestion far more quickly than it ought to have. Her face flushed despite her best efforts.

If she were to beg, then what would happen? Surely he couldn’t possibly think that now was the appropriate time.

“Nay, I only mean that unless ye have far more pressing matters to attend to, why dinnae ye spend the hour with me to fulfill yer end of the bargain?” Ceana released the hem of his kilt and let her hand fall back to the blanket.

For a long moment, she thought that he was going to deny her and turn her away. She thought that he was going to set another rule. Instead, he remained where he was and helped himself to what was left of their dinner without another word.

“Where did ye go tonight?” she asked, hoping to break the ice just a little bit.

But of course, he was not willing to answer her question.

“I am nae askin’ about the inner workings of yer business, M’Laird. I only meant to start a conversation with ye. Surely ye do ken how conversations work?” Ceana continued with more attitude than she had initially intended. “Or perhaps Jeanie got yer personality when she was born?”

Neil’s eyes narrowed on her. “Ye think that ye’re a funny one, do ye nae? Or do ye make a habit of disrespectin’ yer husband?”

Had she sensed malice in his words, her answer might have been different. But, as was everything else, his words felt like a challenge. The man sitting across from her was a puzzle, and she had no idea how to start solving it.

“Is it disrespect to ask why ye seem incapable of speakin’ civilly?” Ceana pushed further. “Or am I only allowed to speak about things that ye approve of beforehand?”

“I went to the pub in the village.”

“Which one?”

“Is that important? Let’s talk about something interesting.”

“Do ye have any hobbies?” Ceana asked, smoothing her skirt around her legs and sitting up straighter so that she could see him better.

“Ye want to spend the hour talkin’ about hobbies?” Neil scoffed incredulously. “I dinnae understand how sittin’ here and talkin’ about such unimportant things will help ye get to ken me better.”

“Well, I have nay desire to go out on a hunt with ye, M’Laird, so I cannae exactly see ye in yer natural habitat.”

“Why, do ye think I would let anything happen to ye?”

“I am nae goin’ to sit around and wait for a man as if I am a simpering fool.”

“Nobody would ever mistake ye for a simpering fool, wife,” Neil said.

It almost sounded like a compliment. Ceana didn’t even know how to respond.

She huffed, frustrated as she stared at him. Though he seemed to like arguing with her even more than he liked speaking in a normal tone. Was it always going to be a struggle with him? Why did she want to win so badly?

“Are ye always this difficult to talk to, M’Laird? Ye ken, ye are really messin’ with this overly approachable air about ye.”

She turned away from him, feeling highly defeated. What was the point of speaking to him if he was going to be so damned stubborn?

“How am I supposed to get to ken ye?”

“Nae by askin’ nonsensical questions,” Neil retorted. “Ask something real—something that ye actually want the answer to.”

“What is yer biggest fear?” Ceana asked the first thing that came to mind, leaning forward on her hand, never breaking eye contact with him as she waited for him to bluster and deflect.

But he leaned in and narrowed his eyes at her. “The Loch Ness Monster,” he answered flatly.

Ceana barely refrained from rolling her eyes. But he was sitting far too close to her now, his lips only inches from her own, and the resolve that had been firing her up until now was starting to waver.

She made the mistake of glancing at his lips, the memory of how they felt against hers still far too fresh in her mind.

She had gotten nowhere, she had learned absolutely nothing new about him, and she certainly did not feel any closer to him than she had a few days ago.

Yet, when he closed the distance between them and kissed her, it was the most natural thing in the world. Even the stars above did not shine as brightly as she felt when he was touching her. There was no way to know who had moved first—him or her—but one moment they were sitting apart, and the next she was straddling his thighs, kissing him like she no longer needed oxygen to breathe.

The self-restraint that she had thought she had evaporated just like that. Neil’s hands found her waist, squeezing her flesh until she was sure his fingertips would leave marks, and he pulled her close until she was pressed against him, her mind fogging over with need as he maneuvered her.

Her heart was fluttering like a hummingbird in her chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair and pulling at it hard . Neil hissed at the discomfort, but then she bit his bottom lip, coaxing a groan from his throat that warmed her more than any roaring fire could ever do.

Not one to be bested, Neil reclaimed power over her as he flipped her onto her back and positioned himself between her legs. The weight of him above her was thrilling. Being at his mercy when she knew that he was focused on her and only her was something she could not even put into words.

What was it about his touch that was so damn addicting? Why couldn’t she get enough of him?

The words were there, ready to roll off the tip of her tongue, but her stubborn pride wouldn’t allow her to give in to him so easily. But oh, it was so tempting. A soft, breathy moan escaped her lips as she arched into him and pulled him closer at the same time, wanting more of him, needing him closer.

“Beg for me,” Neil purred against her skin. “Beg me to take ye right here, out in the open.”

Lost in the moment and the images his words conjured, she couldn’t even dream up the words to protest, not at first. His hands felt too good roaming over her as he nipped her earlobe and then down the side of her neck.

“Let yerself have what ye truly want, wife. Beg for me, tell me how badly ye want me—what we both ken to be true.”

His hand slid up her stocking-clad leg, over her calf and her knee.

He was right. She hated how right he was. Would it truly be so bad to let her husband take her? The location was far from ideal, but could it truly be so bad to let herself feel this way? To see how good he could make her feel?

No. She couldn’t.

Ceana shook her head, pulling at his shirt and creating some distance between them, just enough for her to catch her breath. “I want ye, it’s true… but I’ll never beg ye.”

Neil’s answering smile sent a bolt of desire straight to her core. It wasn’t fair for a man to look so wickedly handsome. Criminal, or it ought to be. He leaned forward to test her resolve—she could see it clear as day—his breath warming her skin until she brought her knee up between their bodies and pushed.

Oh, it was like trying to dislodge a boulder, and she almost wanted to fail.

Ceana pushed insistently at his chest, but he wouldn’t be moved. He strained against her so that he could remain close to her, even going so far as to capture her wrists in his hands and pinning them on either side of her head, leaving her utterly vulnerable. But she wasn’t about to change her mind.

“And I’ll never lie with ye until ye respect me. Properly.” Ceana wiggled out from under him, not caring about the dishes and things that she toppled over along the way. He didn’t let go of her wrists until the last possible second.

“Careful, wife. These conditions of yers are gettin’ out of hand,” he drawled, almost crawling after her as he tried to reclaim the distance and therefore the upper hand once more. “Need I remind ye that I can make ye obey me?”

She could hardly breathe. It was suddenly too hot outside. Her skin was burning under her clothes. She needed to dunk herself in a river so that she could stay clear-headed. How could anybody resist him?

“And will ye, M’Laird?”

It was far too telling, for how breathless she was.

He was all over her again, capturing her lips with his own. She arched into him, shamefully chasing his lips as he pulled away from her to speak. “Nay, I willnae. But next time, call me Neil, wife.”

With that, he pushed off her in one fluid motion and walked back toward the castle, leaving her breathless and feeling as if she had just lost another battle.