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“Still doesnae mean that I meant what I said,” he kept his tone still but there was no mistaking the taunting.
This time, she glared at him. “Ye are nay better.” Turning around she found a chair and slumped into it, huffing and crossing her arms under her breast. Jerking her head to the nearby window, she pressed her lips tight.
“Are ye going to sulk all day?” he asked while going to his desk and pulling out some papers and inkwell.
“Mayhap,” Olivia muttered, looking at her wrapped hand.
As she sat and waited in silence, she heard the constant scratching of a quill over parchment. He did not say a word and Olivia grew mystified. This man was a man of contradictions. On the surface, he was as cold as a block of stone but he had wrapped her hand with such care. He looked as if all he knew was battle but then he had told her about a French book she had read. He was not one for games, but unless she did not know any better, he had just teased her.
And he is honest to a fault. Could it be that I—all of us—have misunderstood him?
* * *
Unbeknownst to her, Conner stole fleeting gazes at her from time to time, his gaze capturing different angles of her face; smooth, unblemished skin, eyes as clear as verdant in summer fields. There were times when her brows would lower and knit together and times when she would draw her bottom lip in and worry it.
Olivia was a beautiful lass, there was no doubt about that. In the shade, her skin looked as soft as spun silk, her lips pink, pursed together in a perfect bow. A few errant locks of hair fluttered at her temple across her nose and contrasted with her skin.
Dropping his gaze back to the orders and payments he had sent out for the wedding, he tried to seem unaffected. The truth was that red blood flowed through his veins like any other man and beautiful women did affect him—no matter how hard he tried not to show it. It had been a while since he had a woman in his bed.
A grumble in his stomach reminded him that he had not eaten that day and he grunted— a sound that drew Olivia’s attention.
“What is the matter?”
“Naything much,” he said, pulling away from the table. “Tis only that me stomach is as hollow as a woodpecker’s nest.”
A flash of guilt crossed her face and he frowned, “It’s nearly midday, have ye nae eaten?”
“Nay,” she said.
“Why?” he rounded the table.
“Because I thought to meself that I had more important things to speak to ye about,” Olivia said.
“And instead of going to eat, ye stayed with me while being hungry,” he asked, “Why?”
“Because I am here trying to find out the man ye are,” Olivia said, and he could see how she refrained from throwing up her hands in frustration. “Ye seem to be one way, but I find ye are the next.”
“I dinnae ken I was a puzzle to be studied,” Conner’s brows lowered, and his tone was harsh.
She looked regretful, “I daenae mean it to be rude but ye must understand that I have lived a life that if I daenae study an’ think things through, I would have long been taken for a fool. It is another habit that I cannae give up. It is a part of me.”
Just as if I had not taken control of my clan, this feud would still be happening.
He leaned forward and braced his elbows on the table. “Listen, lass, I am nae one to be taken lightly. I tell ye now, I will always tell ye the truth, and I expect the same from ye.”
Olivia nodded, and he could see her nervous swallow.
After giving her a long searching look, he sat back. “Good, now shall we eat?”
“Nay haggis,” she said quietly.
He shot her a look, “I daenae fancy it meself. I prefer a slice of beef or a hearty lamb pottage. I daenae eat in the great hall unless it is a grand affair, I prefer to eat in a small room over the east sea.”
They left the room and silently climbed to another level—as they did so, Conner instructed a maid to send up their meal— and then to a tiny room with a round table at a wide window. The sunlight glowed against her fair skin. She was slender but also incredibly shapely, had the hips of a goddess, and her cleavage blossomed over her tunic’s neckline.
They sat across from the other silently and she eyed him warily. “Are ye upset with me?”
“Now what makes ye ask that?” Conner dipped his chin, a bit disappointed he’d roused her so.
