Page 38 of Taken By the Savage Highlander

“They act as if I dinnae bring them to the castle a few days ago,” Cameron scoffed, his annoyance entirely put on. “I will see if I can arrange me schedule to come with ye tomorrow.”

“It will be like when we were boys,” Gavin joked, a mischievous light in his eyes.

“We arenae goin’ out to sea, Gavin,” Cameron said with a frown. “And neither of us have time to slack off.”

“We werenae slackin’ in the slightest,” Gavin said, smirking. “We worked the entire time we were there.”

It took all of Cameron’s strength to keep from smiling at the memories. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d allowed himself to dwell on the carefree moments of his youth. Even then, they’d been far and few between.

“Aye, but we drank more whisky than most of the men we were supposed to be assistin’,” Cameron replied, turning away from his friend. “We are lucky that we werenae thrown overboard.”

As Gavin laughed, Margo walked through the castle doors. She was grinning ear to ear, wearing an expression that was both enticing and foreboding. Before she even spoke, he knew that she would be testing his patience.

“Lady MacLeod,” he said, keeping his tone intentionally formal. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“I came to thank you for the basket,” she said, her hazel eyes turning golden in the sunlight.

I kent I shouldnae have told Mrs. Campbell me plans for that damned basket.

“What basket?” Cameron said, his jaw ticking when he closed his mouth.

Margo’s smile seemed to widen even further, twisting into something delighted and devious. “The basket in your study. The basket that all of our mischievous kittens keep disappearing to.”

Cameron stilled, the statement delivering two different blows. First, the wretched confirmation that she’d discovered the project he had spent hours working on in the privacy of his quarters. Then, that word. Ours. It was said so freely, so easily that his mind faltered.

He fell back on the only defense he had, when it came to her.

“What were ye doin’ in me study?” he demanded, attempting to redirect the conversation. With firmness that bordered on furious, he said, “I dinnae give either of ye permission to be there.”

“I was searching for Miss Crusoe,” Margo said, completely unaffected by his tone. “And Mrs. Campbell was working. We just happened to run into each other.”

“So, Mrs. Campbell allowed ye inside,” he said flatly, making a mental note to speak with the woman.

Behind him, Gavin laughed, causing Cameron’s frown to become more austere without his eyes ever leaving Margo. Even when his friend slapped a hand over his shoulder as he continued to laugh at the situation, his gaze remained steady.

Margo, though, was still unaffected by his harshness. Her grin never faltered, and she looked, for lack of a better term, like the cat that had gotten the cream. It was both disarming and infuriating in equal measure.

“If ye must ken,” he said when it became obvious that she wasn’t budging, “the castle needed one.”

Her eyes seemed to light up even further as though she had won some grand prize. Her voice was deceptively sweet when she asked, “For the kittens?”

“Aye,” he confirmed, keeping his tone as matter-of-fact as he could.

There was no winning with this woman, it seemed. The only thing he felt able to do under her unsettling excitement was agree and attempt to minimize his own actions. If he couldn’t come out on top, the best thing he could do was mitigate his losses.

I shouldnae be usin’ battlefield tactics with this woman.

“How fortunate,” she replied, smiling with her teeth now.

Cameron kept his expression completely serious, though it proved to be a challenge with the infectious energy rolling off her. “They’re very practical creatures.”

Margo’s eyes widened. She seemed frozen for a beat, almost as if she couldn’t tell if he meant what he said, or was teasing her back. Then, she laughed, the sound coming from deep in her belly.

The sound was so warm that it seemed to burrow beneath his skin. His chest ached with a fondness unlike anything he had experienced before. Looking at her became difficult; she was like the sun personified.

“I must thank you again,” she said when she recovered a bit of her composure. There was still a slight lilt to her voice, the dregs of her amusement sticking to her sides. “The basket is very nice. The kittens seem to be enjoying it.”

Then, without giving him a chance to respond again, Margo turned around and walked back out of his study. He watched as she practically bounced with every step. As the foreign warmth worked its way through his body, he clenched his hands into fists, expelling it as though it were poison. What he couldn’t get out of his system seemed to morph into frustration.