Page 12 of Wedded to the Devilish Highlander
“Where were ye goin’,Kilmartin? If ye were sneakin’ out without yer maid kennin’, I assume it’s somewhere she wouldnae want ye to go.”
Eileen drew herself to her full height. “It’s none of yer business. Out of me way?—”
He pushed off the wall and took a step forward. “Who do ye think ye are, Kilmartin? It’s me castle, so it is me business. I dinnae even ken yer name.”
She stiffened. “What does that matter? I’mKilmartin,just as ye said.”
“Do ye have a first name?”
“I dinnae have time for this. Move!”
“I’ll move when ye give me a proper introduction.”
Her mouth moved before her mind could catch up. “I’m Eileen Kilmartin, Laird McFair’s youngest sister.”
He stepped forward then.
Eileen stepped back instinctively. “Wha—What are ye doin’?” she demanded to know, her eyes wide with fear.
“This isnae the time to be sneakin’ around. Back inside. Now.”
“Ye said ye would let me go if I told ye who I was.”
Archer smirked. “I said nay such thing. I told ye I would move. I’m a man of me word. I’m movin’, and ye’re movin’ with me back into yer room.”
“A man of yer word, but ye arenaea man of honor,” she spat out, but continued retreating one step at a time until her heel hit the rug in her room.
She expected the Laird to stop at the door, but he continued to advance on her as she backed into her room.
“I’m in me room so you can leave me be,” she stated, her hands defiantly clenched at her sides. She tried to keep her voice down, so Piper wouldn’t hear and discover what she’d been up to.
“If I leave now, ye might still do somethin’ foolish,” Archer drawled.
With a soft thud, the door shut behind him.
“Why do ye care? I said I was sorry earlier, but me braither is gone. I only wanted to check yer dungeons. If I can save him?—”
He reached for her hands and placed them flat against his chest. The warmth of his body seeped through her palms.
“Ye’re lyin’. Ye could have asked to go to me dungeons at any time. If ye wish to leave, then ye will have to go through me. Go ahead, lass. Give me a shove.”
She stiffened at first, taken aback by his request, and then—banking on the element of surprise—she gave him the hardest shove she could muster.
In true annoying fashion, he didn’t budge an inch.
“Argh!” She tried again, ramming her shoulder into his chest.
Nothing.
“Christ Almighty. What the—” She cursed and threw her hands, only for a bolt of pain to shoot up her arms when her palms connected with his hard chest.
He smirked. “Is that it, then?”
She growled in frustration. “Why are ye doin’ this?”
Her eyes dropped to his trousers, and she sucked in her bottom lip. Never before had she injured a man in such a way, but she thought very seriously about doing it now just to get past him.
“Dinnae even think about it—that’scheatin’.”
