Page 69 of Laird of Wrath

Before Rhea could tell him that it was very thoughtful of him, Callum appeared right behind her, hovering like a shadow. The moment his gaze found Reggie, the other man shriveled and took a step back.

“Me Laird!” he stammered, his nervous gaze sweeping over Callum from head to toe. “Ye seem… jolly.”

Rhea glanced at Callum to find him looking anything but.

“Iwill dance with me wife,” he slurred.

How much has he had to drink?, she wondered.

It wasn’t like him to drink so much in front of people, but this feast was in his honor, after all. She only wished that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself.

“Forgive me, Reggie,” Rhea offered with an apologetic look. It was ridiculous for her husband to be jealous of a man like Reggie, but she supposed things would be different if he hadn’t been drunk. “I’m afraid duty calls.”

“Of course, me Lady.” Reggie sketched a quick bow. “As the Laird wishes.”

Before she knew it, Callum was whisking her away to the dance floor, his hand firm on her waist. It was hardly an appropriate song for him to be holding her like this, as everyone else was dancing in larger groups, but she wasn’t going to be the one to point that out to him.

“Ye frightened poor Reggie,” she chided him. “There was nay reason for ye to do that.”

Callum grunted in his usual fashion, his hand tightening on her waist. “Are ye me wife or nae?”

“I am,” she said, bemused.

“Then ye should dance withme.”

With every passing moment, Callum seemed to get more and more intoxicated, even though he wasn’t drinking anymore.His words slurred together, and his movements became more awkward, less coordinated as he led her into the dance. But his hands only tightened more and more around her, as if he was trying to protect her from those around them, as if every collision with another dancer was a danger to her and a threat to him.

It didn’t surprise her that no one around them seemed to mind. If anything, they only noticed how he was holding her, how he was looking at her, and they seemed charmed by his possessiveness, his overprotectiveness.

What surprised her was that she felt the same way—charmed by this man who seemed to have two left feet, charmed by the way he held her so close to him, by the way he looked as if she was the only one that mattered in the whole world.

His chest was like a solid wall of heat against her, his arms encompassing her entirely. Desire pooled deep in her stomach as he spun her around and brought her back to him, their bodies colliding, a gasp escaping her lips.

She could only describe him as feral then, and she couldn’t help but think about what he would be like in bed if she allowed him to take her up to his chambers.

He wanted it; there was no doubt in her mind about it. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him, and she had half a mind to go back on their agreement, to ask him to make her his that very night.

But then, Callum’s eyes glazed over, and just as he was about to spin her once more, she slipped away from his hands… and he fell face-first to the floor.

23

“Tell me if ye need anythin’,” Hudson said as he lingered near the door.

He and Rhea had taken Callum up to his chambers to rest the moment he collapsed, but Rhea hadn’t stopped fretting over him for a single moment.

“Do ye think he’ll be all right?” she asked. “What if… what if somethin’ happened to him?”

“He’s only drunk, Rhea,” Hudson assured her. “Daenae fash.”

“How much did he have to drink?” Surely, it couldn’t have been that much. They hadn’t stayed at the feast for that long. “I daenae think he had enough to faint!”

“He’s asleep,” Hudson said. “I’ve seen him like this before. Now, I didnae think he would drink this much tonight, but it isnae the first time somethin’ like this happened.”

“When was the last time ye saw him like this?”

Hudson seemed to consider for a moment. “I daenae remember. It must have been a long time ago.”

“Precisely,” Rhea huffed. “So why should I think that everythin’ is all right now?”