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“I beg your pardon, my lady.” The priest started, diplomatic.
“I said no.” She repeated firm and sure.
The woman had the nerv
e!
“What do you mean by no?” Taran asked low and menacing.
Her chin raised and her eyes fried him. He did not need to get any hotter. Not now.
“I was not even asked.” Clear cut-glass voice. “In fact I was— “ Furious crimson colour covered her flawless skin. “Coerced!”
Unforgettable coercion, he completed inwardly. One he would make a point to repeat. When would it be? Never, probably. Damn her!
Father Robert turned grim to Taran. “Is it true, Laird McDougal.”
Guiltlessly, he faced the old man. “Not exactly, Father Robert.” He shrugged as if it had been the most usual proposal in the universe. “She said yes when I… proposed.”
The wilful harridan fulminated him with her burning mahogany eyes, daring him to wallow further in his half-truths. Which she clearly conceived as half-lies. Entire falsehoods.
To the priest. “I am sorry, father.” Her swivel to Taran sudden as she crossed her arms defiant, the stubborn witch. “I refuse to marry on these terms.”
Which terms would she marry on, he questioned? Those where he would become her lap-dog? Hell would freeze over first. Did she not learn women were supposed to be pliable? Dependable? Biddable. Docile. Tame! Especially tame. Unquestionably tame!
“The man found his match, finally.” Seamus hissed none too discreet to his wife.
Which made Taran even madder. If she was his match, he was the King of England!
“Excuse me.” She addressed the room in general. And strutted, straight spine, high chin, to the front door.
Taran’s green fiery eyes followed her, still not believing she did it. Ditched him in front of his own son and his most important kin. He possessed this pulsating need to go after her and twist her delectable neck. And then kiss those disastrously delicious lips. Because she infuriated him and aroused him in the same breath.
The same blasting, blistering breath.
~.~.~
Aileen fumed along the way to her chamber. As she had been fuming for nearly twenty-four hours. When she left his chamber, and trudged to hers, her body cooled down and crystalline reflection resurfaced. In a long bath, she pondered at what had transpired. Anger replaced the languidness he cast over her like a curse. And what he did to usher, herd her into marriage—yet again—started looking very coercive indeed. That she would not accept.
She stood up to her three brothers and resisted determined their pressure to choose a suitor. They emphasised she went past the age of marriage, she would not receive so many offers in the future. They needed the alliances. Fine, but she would take her time.
Then the implacable giant crossed her way to do the same, first with his son, then with her. No, oh, no!
The man was the devil incarnate. What he did to her in his bed surpassed the wildest dreams of delectation. Barely remembering of it got her so candent, she must sit on her bed. When would she have thought that a man would literally rip out clear thought from her brain to replace it with pure lust? Explosive lust. One fuelled by his naked broad torso her eyes feasted on shamelessly.
She craved it again.
Craved everything.
That must be the most stupid idea that ever saw the light of day!
The ‘no’ word became her specialty, with three healthy brothers extremely sure they could bend her to their designs and a father to match. She experienced a very thorough training in making her will prevail. And she was not about to acquiesce meekly to the troglodyte who abducted her on top of it all.
The morning’s events must have exhausted her, for she lay on her bed and fell asleep instantly.
By the time she woke up, darkness had descended again. Confused, she sat up and the memories came rushing. That morning, as the bagpiper played his soothing song, she had awoken and bathed, eaten, dressed. And, oh…
She survived a called-off wedding.
