Page 58

He was drowsy and had slept for most of the journey, and he had a strong suspicion that he’d been given some sort of potion. Since yesterday, when they’d arrived, he’d been offered grilled boar, exquisite and rare French wine, and bread, the scent of which made his stomach growl. He’d refused everything, of course. He didn’t want to give the woman any sign that he was enjoying or accepting what she’d done.

She proceeded into the room with an angelic smile on her face. She wore a beautiful red dress with sophisticated embroidered patterns of flowers and leaves in golden thread. Her shiny hair cascaded down her shoulders and over her chest, and she’d done something to her lips and cheeks so that they appeared red.

She could be a beautiful sight—for another man. He knew what a selfish soul lay under that pretty appearance.

He wanted one woman. One woman who had been sent to him from the future by destiny.

Euphemia stood before the bed and her smile grew wider. “Lord, did ye rest?” she asked.

He glared at her. “What have ye done to Lady Rogene?”

Euphemia could beat and humiliate and try whatever she wanted with him. But all he really cared about was what she had done with Rogene, who’d been in the bedchamber when he was taken. Had they kidnapped her, too?

Euphemia’s smug smile fell. “If ye say her name one more time—”

“I’m nae afraid of ye,” he said.

“Oh. I ken. But ye will be.”

He swallowed hard. There was only one way she could scare him—by endangering his clan or the woman he was falling in love with…

In love? Was he mad? He hadn’t known her very long. How could she take such a big piece of his heart? Wasn’t he just desiring her? And what was the big issue with wanting a woman?

But he’d never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her. Indeed, he wanted her so much that he’d betrayed everything he stood for: duty, honor, and clan. Had he truly let his cock guide him and endanger hundreds of people of his clan? Nae, he told himself. He wanted to be selfish—didn’t he deserve that? Couldn’t he put himself first just for once in his life?

Well. Look what it had led him to.

Euphemia had outsmarted him, and he was now paying for his selfishness. His father was right—all he was good for was fighting in battles.

As she sat on the edge of the mattress, he sucked in a breath and shifted away from her on an instinct. She reached out and gently pulled the edge of the blanket down, exposing his chest. Wanting to smack her hands away, he jerked, but the handcuffs rattled and cut angrily into his wrists.

“Get yer hands off me,” he said.

She cocked one brow as she studied his pecs. “Aw, Lord Angus,” she singsonged, and as her eyes met his, there was hurt in them—no doubt from his rejection and anger. “I’m nae playing by yer rules nae more. I’ve given ye everything ye wanted. I agreed to yer conditions. I came to Eilean Donan to be yer wife. I agreed nae to attack Kintail—for ye. All I wanted in return was a husband. A husband who’d make love to me. Who’d give me a son. How hard is it?”

She slowly traced a finger down his chest, her pupils dilating as she followed it with her gaze.

“Ye’re a strong, capable man,” she continued. “In yer prime. Clearly, ye’re able to perform since ye’ve taken a lover to yer bed. Why is it that ye canna lie with me?”

Nails bit into Angus’s own palm. Because ye’re nae her… He couldn’t even think of any other woman than Rogene.

Euphemia took the blanket and threw it off him, exposing his body. He suppressed a low growl. As she lazily, slowly looked him over, his mouth curled in a snarl. Her eyes stopped and widened at his cock, and the smile on her face chilled his blood.

“Oh, I kent ye’d be worth every trouble I’m going through for ye,” she said, and when she looked into his eyes, there was nothing but triumph. “Ye’ll give me a wonderful son.”

She undid the brooch at the base of her neck and the cloak fell. She was completely naked underneath. Although, no doubt, she was beautiful, Angus turned his face away and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see her. The sight of her made him sick because he saw her for who she truly was inside.

“Angus, ye may resist this all ye want.” Settling herself so that she was straddling him, she purred. He felt her warm thighs around his and shifted up in a futile attempt to get away from her. “But ye will marry me.”

He looked at her. “What?”

Her eyes were half closed—a cat that had caught her mouse and wasn’t going to let it go.

Gliding her palms over his chest and stomach, she said, “Aye. I give ye a sennight to come to terms with this. But I do have a priest who, nae matter what ye say, will only hear ‘aye.’ So either ye agree on yer own, or the priest will agree for ye. Either way, we will get marrit.”

Sweat dripped down his neck. Suddenly the room wasn’t warm anymore but cold. The place where her thighs touched his stung, as if many small needles were stabbing him.

“’Tis nae a real marriage,” he said.