Page 13 of Laird of Wrath

Rhea stood there, flabbergasted. “Excuse me?”

“Come sit here,” he repeated in a flat tone that did nothing to assuage her fears.

Well, I suppose we might as well get it over with.

Ever so gingerly, Rhea went to sit on his lap. Her entire face felt as though it was on fire, though not so much from the logs in the hearth but rather from the embarrassment coursing through her.

Her heart skipped beat after beat until she was panting, trying to catch her breath. Something warm and heavy coiled in her stomach—a feeling for which she had no name yet, though she would soon come to recognize it as desire, lust.

Under her, Callum was a wall of muscle, his wide thighs and strong torso holding her securely, his arms wrapping around her to keep her close. He was so warm, seemingly radiating heat, and when he spoke, the rumble of his voice reverberated through her, settling in her core.

“Good lass,” he murmured, just as his hand found her thigh. His large palm wrapped around it, giving it an appreciative squeeze before traveling down its length to rest on her knee. Then it slid back up, this time closer to her hip, closer to all the places she didn’t know if she wanted him to touch.

A part of her was ready to surrender to him, to feel the brush of his lips on her skin, the rough touch of his calloused palms on her body. But another, bigger part of her was still too fearful, too hesitant to give herself to him.

Still, much to her surprise, he didn’t do anything else. He only caressed her thigh again and again, the repetitive motion driving her mad with desire—and with anticipation.

“Ye’re certainly takin’ yer time,” she teased with an uncertain laugh.

All this time, she had been avoiding his gaze, staring into the flames instead. But now that she turned to look at him, she found him already staring at her.

The hunger in his eyes sent another rush of pleasure through her, her mind almost fogging with it, but she reminded herself that it was all happening too soon.

“Is somethin’ the matter?”

“Nay,” Callum said, and she could have sworn that she saw the hint of a smile on his lips. “Nae at all. I simply like to enjoy me victories.”

She swallowed past a dry throat.

When he leaned closer, she knew what was coming. He was going to kiss her. He was going to kiss her, and then he was going to take her to bed and finally claim her.

“Just one moment,” she blurted out, pushing him back with a hand on his chest. He stared at her rather impatiently but said nothing, and she scrambled for something to say to fill the silence. “I… I think it’s prudent to get to ken each other before we… before we…”

“Before I claim ye,” Callum finished.

“Aye.” Rhea nodded. “One month. Give me one month to get to ken ye better, and then I will give meself to ye. Ye have me word.”

Callum regarded her for a few moments, and she was almost certain he would refuse. But then, he simply nodded, and relief washed over her.

Perhaps he was a good man, after all.

“If ye wish to be courted, then so be it.” He gently pushed her off his lap and stood, straightening his jacket. “One month. And then ye’ll be mine.”

Before Rhea could say anything else or even thank him for giving her the time she had asked for, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek—one that felt like a promise. Then, he walked off, pausing by the door for a brief moment.

“Goodnight, Rhea. I look forward to it.”

5

“Someone looks like he hasnae slept a wink,” Hudson noted, much to Callum’s annoyance. “Shall I take this to mean ye’ve been tryin’ for an heir?”

Callum had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, as it was not like him to be petulant, not even in front of his good friend and confidant. Instead, he glared at Hudson, who only laughed in response.

Thoughts of Rhea haunted him. Even now, as he was waiting for the councilmen in the council chambers, all he could think about was Rhea—the way she had felt under his touch; the way she had looked at him when she was sitting in his lap, with such fire in her eyes that it was almost enough to burn him.

But he couldn’t discount the fact that he was different now. He had changed so much from the man Rhea had married, not only on the inside, but also on the outside. He was scarred from the endless months of war. His face and body were differentfrom when he had first married Rhea, and that alone made him hesitate to be near her.

He was a dangerous man. He was a monster. And Rhea was so pure, so innocent, that she didn’t deserve someone like him as her husband.