Page 103 of Ruined By the Ruthless Highlander
“Leave us, please, Lilly,” her voice cut through his thoughts, and he drew to a halt.
Lachlan did not need to look at the maid to know that she hesitated. She shuffled her feet for a moment before she slipped past him, closing the door behind her with a quiet finality.
The silence that followed was heavy.
Marian folded her arms across her chest and looked away, her profile equally as angry as her face had been.
“Why are you here, Laird MacLeod?” she asked, her voice devoid of the emotions it had held in the Great Hall.
Lachlan’s chest tightened at the way she addressed him.
Perhaps I shouldnae have come.
He considered storming out of her chamber. Instead, his feet carried him forward.
“So it is true then,” he said sharply.
Marian straightened, her gaze immediately returning to him.
“Ye truly mean to go?” he asked, his voice quieter than he had intended.
Marian did not answer at once. She took a step forward, the last strip of the pale afternoon light slipping from her face as she moved closer to him. There was no hesitation in her steps.
“You were very clear about your wishes, my Laird.” Her words landed evenly as a firm reminder of a truth he was now trying to dismiss.
His jaw hardened. “Aye,” he muttered, his gaze flicking once more toward the trunks before returning to her.
She hadn’t even packed the cloak he had Mrs. Campbell make in her size, and yet her inadequate floral cloak sat at the very top of one of the trunks.
“I was.” He took another step forward, slower this time. “But I didnae think ye’d vanish at the first push.” His tone was sharp. But beneath that sharpness, there was something closer to hurt.
Marian’s expression did not change. If anything, her frown deepened.
“You asked me to go back to England,” she reminded him. “And I am doing exactly as you ordered.”
Her calmness grated on his nerves.
He took another step closer, too close now for distance to soften anything between them.
“I thought ye had more fight in ye,Sassenach.” The word left his mouth with less force than usual. Less bite.
Marian met his gaze without flinching. “I do not know what you expected of me, my Laird,” she said casually, as though this was just a normal conversation. “You made your position quite clear.”
Lachlan’s gaze flicked to her lips and then to her eyes. He swallowed, and for a moment, he forgot what he was going to say.
Heavens help me.
His gaze hardened. In two strides, he closed the distance between them, his hand catching her waist with a suddenness that made her eyes go wide. She drew in a sharp breath, her chest rising as her face flushed.
“I ken what I said, Marian,” he nearly groaned, his hand tightening around her waist. “But I daenae ken how to leave ye like this.”
He paused for a breath, just long enough for her to turn away if she wished, and then he leaned slowly into her, pressing his lips against hers.
The kiss that followed was nothing like the reckless challenges of their earlier encounters.
Marian rose on her tiptoes, and his hand tightened around her waist.
Her eyes fluttered shut. A moan escaped her as he nibbled gently on her lower lip, and her mouth opened slightly, welcoming his tongue.
