Was she truly misjudging him like everyone else? She knew how frustrating it was to speak the truth and to not have anybody around you listen to it at all. He could only imagine that she had given her own father a similar look many times before.
Her mouth snapped shut.
Perhaps it was her own pride that kept her from apologizing. Perhaps it was because she wanted to be correct so that she would have a reason to fail. Some sort of validation that she was right in the end, that this wasn’t going to work.
But the look on Kaden’s face said something else. The tension between them wouldn’t break despite the thunder outside and the rain pelting the dirty glass panes of the windows.
There was still tension between them. A discomfort that he couldn’t quell, and no matter how hard he tried to break it, any attempt at conversation fell short.
Rain was falling heavily on the roof by the time they had finished eating. Kaden hoped that the warmth of their drinks would at least keep them cozy during the long ride back to the castle. If they made it before the heavens opened fully, the warm hearths there would ensure that neither of them caught a cold.
Kaden paid, and they got up to leave but they didn’t make it to the door before lightning flashed and thunder boomed.
“I wouldnae try to leave if I were ye,” the tavern wench called to them. “I had the kitchen staff move yer horse to the barn, me Laird. The storm is only going to get worse.” She moved to stop them and shut the door.
Kaden glanced at the other shivering bodies that had only just arrived a few moments ago, already soaked to the bone and warming by the fire.
“There are plenty of warm rooms upstairs. The owner requested one to be readied for ye. I meant to tell ye before ye were finished with yer supper.” She glanced around at the very busy tavern as if that were enough of an excuse to hold them up. “I’ll show ye and Lady Muir up to yer room?”
Emily barely contained her laugh. “I suppose she’s nae entirely wrong, is she?”
The knot in Kaden’s chest finally started to loosen. At least that meant she was not ending their engagement. Or so he hoped.
The woman led them upstairs, Emily making polite commentary as they walked. Kaden lingered behind to count the number of men downstairs and find the best way to leave the tavern quickly.
He didn’t even bother looking at the room as Emily started to giggle. All he knew was that a key was pressed firmly into the palm of his hand, and he followed her inside.
Though it only took one proper look to see why she was giggling manically.
There was only one bed.
23
“Ye have nay issue sleeping on the floor, aye?” Emily asked cheekily as she sauntered into the room, her hips swaying a touch more dramatically than they needed to.
The wine had warmed her skin and made her acutely aware of every point where her clothes touched her body. She kept focusing on the way her skirts swished around her legs. Even more effort was needed to keep away the memories of Kaden’s hands under her skirts.
Being alone in a room with him was the very last thing she wanted.
Well, that wasn’t technically true. But it was what she was going to convince herself was wholly factual.
“And just why would I be sleeping on the floor?” Kaden asked.
She heard a shuffle and then a heavy thunk as his boots hit the floor. She spun around to find him making himself comfortable.
It was so difficult to convince herself that she needed to tear her eyes from his muscular figure. It was simply not what she ought to be focused on at a time like this.
But he was taking off his his tartan and his shirt clung to his muscles in ways that made her want to trace each one of them with her fingers. What was wrong with her?
Well, maybe seeing him in only his shirt and kilt was…distracting. He stepped forward to wrap the tartan around her.
“When we are married, ye will have to share me bed, ye ken?”
Emily was now almost too distracted to notice. She ought not to accept the warmth of his tartan, but it smelled nice, and it was far warmer than she had expected. She tracked his movements across the small room as he skirted the corner of the bed and started to build up the fire in the grate. The ease of said movements was mesmerizing. The way his muscles flexed underneath his shirt with each piece of wood he added painted pictures of him carryinghersomewhere. Or him being ontopof her somewhere. Oh dear.
“Do ye think Maggie is afraid?” she blurted, not wanting to think about being in his bed for a second longer. Least of all when she could still see the muscles in his back rippling as he worked.
“Nay.”
