Chapter 3

Just a few minutes, and he wouldnae have caught me. I would have stolen that horse and been out of here and back with Euan!

When Kira realized her groom had spotted her and was chasing after her, her heart had leapt into her mouth. She had run as fast as she could in her stupid wedding dress, and her pride was still smarting that he had so easily caught her. The indignity of being carried helplessly to her doom over his shoulder like some piece of livestock, then forced to go through with the farce of the ceremony in front of strangers, had already convinced her that Alec Mackintosh was indeed, just as Tavish had warned her, a fearful man.

It did not seem fair that he also happened to be the most heartstoppingly gorgeous man she had ever seen in her life. Tall and massively built, packed with muscle, he had wild, long, blond hair, which was currently drawn back and worn atop his head. His cold green eyes were set beneath thick, dark-blond brows. They betrayed no hint of warmth as they stared down at her.

She recalled his strong boned yet finely chiseled mouth and features, and the glint of dark gold whiskers on his recently shaved chin. The fine fretwork of silvery scars on his cheeks and hands seemed the perfect adornment to his tough, masculine beauty. There was no denying he filled out the ceremonial féileadh mòr, the big kilt, in the most distracting way. With his deep voice and powerful body, he oozed command.

Despite her festering hatred, Kira had been unable to deny the jolt she had felt on looking into his eyes in the porch of the kirk. Maybe that was partly why she had bitten his lip in fury when he had dared to kiss her after the ceremony.

The wedding feast, laid out at the laird’s table in the great hall, though small, was arranged with good taste. The family had introduced themselves to her kindly, though she hated the pity she saw in their eyes.

“I ken all this must be very hard fer ye, Kira, but I hope ye’ll come tae settle in here and regard this as yer home,” the one called Bran had told her, giving her a peck on the cheek in welcome. The tattooed warrior was taller even than Alec and looked intimidating, with his hard features, short, blond hair, and dark blue eyes. But the kindness in his deep voice convinced Kira he was no brute, and she could not help but warm to him.

Then there was, Careena, a tall, blonde beauty with icy blue eyes and a lovely smile.

“We welcome ye most warmly tae yer new home, Sister. We all want ye tae be happy here,” she had greeted Kira warmly, kissing her cheek. They both seemed so sincere, Kira could not find it in herself to hate either of them.

But Alec was another kettle of fish. His simmering silence throughout the festivities matched her own, convincing her of their mutual hatred. As the hours passed and others got up to dance and make merry, she toyed nervously with her scarf, burningly conscious of Alec glowering next to her. She noticed he hardly ate anything, just like her, and she was relieved that he asked nothing of her, not even the traditional dance of the newlywed couple.

She drank some wine to help with her nerves, for she secretly dreaded the wedding night and had resolved to violently repel her murderous groom from claiming his conjugal rights if necessary. Deep down, she could not help regretting a little that Alec was her bitterest enemy, for he was braw beyond what any maid could desire in a husband. In happier circumstances, she knew she would have enjoyed her wedding night.

Soon, however, a combination of the wine and nerves finally loosened her tongue. She noticed Bran laughing and joking with the beautiful, dark-haired girl called Ilyssa, who had been introduced to her as the sister of the Laird MacBean.

“Is Ilyssa Bran’s wife?” she asked Alec. He turned to her, looking surprised she had spoken.

“Nay. The MacBeans are our close friends. We all grew up together. Whenever her braither Tad has tae travel, he leaves Ilyssa with us because he’s afraid tae leave her alone at their castle,” he answered.

Kira gave a scoffing laugh and, hoping to provoke him, said, “What, he trusts ye Mackintoshes with his sister’s life rather than his own people? He must be a fool.” She expected Alec to snarl angrily at her and was disappointed when he only laughed.

“Nay, we’re all like braithers and sisters. Tad kens we’ll keep Ilyssa safe and guard her with our lives, the same way we dae Catreena’s. I have two more braithers, Dunn and Evander, but they’re away from home just now and couldnae get back in time fer the weddin’. Ye’ll meet them later another time.”

There was a pause in the dancing then, and Kira was joined by an out of breath, pink-cheeked Catreena and Ilyssa. As the girls engaged her in conversation, she noticed Alec went to talk with Bran.

“Will ye nae come and dance, Kira?” Catreena begged her, but she shook her head.

“Och, come on,” Ilyssa implored her, her dark gray eyes flashing with merriment. “I ken this is nae exactly the weddin’ day ye would have dreamed of, but there’s nae point in bein’ miserable. Ye might as well enjoy yersel’.”

“Nae, thank ye, I’m happy as I am,” she told them with a smile, finding it impossible to dislike them. After all, they had played no part in her father’s murder. She was warmed by their kindness yet determined not to be seen to celebrate her marriage to Catreena’s brother. Besides, she could tell just by looking at Ilyssa that the girl was trouble, and she had enough on her plate just then without finding more.

They were still chattering when Alec suddenly returned.

“’Tis time fer us tae retire now,” he told Kira bluntly. Her blood ran cold at the thought of being alone with him, but what choice did she have? At least it appeared there would not be the usual raucous bedding ceremony as at most weddings. That gave her some relief as she went to rise from the table, struggling with the heavy chair. Alec made no move to help her.

“Braither, have ye forgotten yer manners? Are ye nae gonnae offer yer wife yer hand tae help her up?” Catreena scolded him. He merely shrugged, seemingly content to watch Kira extricate herself. Though she did not want his assistance, Kira bristled at his attitude, nonetheless. She bid the girls a good night, then followed Alec, who stalked from the room ahead of her. She refused to run, maintaining a stately pace. It was a small victory when he finally had to halt to allow her to catch up with him.

Alec led his new wife upstairs to his chambers, which they would now share.

Evidently, she was still fuming from his earlier dismissive behavior and rounded on him as soon as the door shut.

“I suppose ye enjoyed watching me struggle back there, did ye? Why are ye such a thoughtless brute?” she railed, her bright blue eyes flashing.

He stared back at her in anger, unbuckling his sword belt. “Ye’re nae the only one who’s unhappy about this damned marriage,” he told her gruffly. “I’m nae thrilled at havin’ tae marry ye either.” He slung the sword belt over a chairback. “I dinnae like yer clan, and I especially dinnae like the way ye started this feud on naethin’ more than ill-informed whispers and gossip.”

Incensed, Kira put her hands on her hips. “Ye killed me faither!”

There it was! He had anticipated her accusation, of course. Ignoring Bran’s plea to be gentle with her, he vehemently shook his head in denial.

“We Mackintoshes had naethin’ tae dae with yer faither’s death,” he said, beginning to strip off his wedding clothes with marked impatience, apparently unconcerned that she was watching. “But I dinnae expect ye tae believe that,” he added, kicking off his boots at the same time as he unfastened the brooch at his shoulder and let the heavy, pleated plaid fall to the floor. Next, he pulled off his brocade coat and slung it on the bed contemptuously, followed by his waistcoat.

Kira could not take her eyes off of him as he unwound the kilted plaid from around his hips and cast the whole thing aside, standing in his shirt and stockings. Somehow, he managed to look intimidating instead of foolish. Striding to a nearby closet, he extracted a pair of leather lined trews and pulled them on, tucking in his shirt. A thrill shot through her to glimpse a broad chest covered with red-gold hair and a tantalizing flash of blue ink beneath the shirt.

“Are ye listenin’ tae me?” he suddenly barked, stopping what he was doing and fixing those cold green eyes on her.

“Nae, I never heard a word, and that’s how I mean tae go on in this ridiculous joke of a marriage, so ye’d best get used tae it,” she snapped back, giving herself a mental shake, determined to hide her discomfiture at the effect he was having on her. His eyes darkened, and he made a sound with his lips that clearly expressed his displeasure.

“Are ye deaf? I said, we Mackintoshes were nae responsible fer ye faither’s death,” he repeated more loudly, as though talking to a child. “I ken ye prefer tae think otherwise, so go ahead and hate me, I dinnae care a whit.” He shrugged and then pointed a finger at her. “But mark me words, wife…,” it sounded like a curse coming from his lips, “… fer I’m tellin’ ye this once only, and we’ll nae be discussin’ the matter again.”

His callous words swept aside all Kira’s thoughts of his physical appeal. Anger flooded her.

“Ach! Ye can lie ’til ye’re blue in the face, ye monster. I’ll never believe a word that comes out of yer mouth, so ye’re wastin’ yer breath. And dinnae think that just because ye’ve trapped me intae this marriage ye can boss me about, husband,” she told him with a scornful toss of her head.

Why, this little witch is fire! I can see I’ve got me work cut out fer me keepin’ her in check. But I reckon I’m gonnae have some fun doin’ it!

“Me, trapped ye? Nay, as I told ye, ’tis the King who wants this marriage, nae me. ’Tis me who’s trapped. I was happy as I was. I’ve plenty of lassies tae dally with. I dinnae need a wife, especially nae one who bites her own husband at the bloody altar.”

Keen to teach her a lesson in intimidation, he walked slowly towards her, towering over her, expecting her to flinch and back away. She did not. She stayed where she was, glaring up at him fiercely, hands on hip.

“If ye thought that wee bite would scare me off, ye’re sadly mistaken. Because, ye see, I like me pleasures rough,” he told her with a wink and smile. To his surprise, instead of showing fear, she laughed in his face.

“That’s funny,” she scoffed, “because if ye’re thinkin’ of takin’ any of yer pleasures with me, rough or gentle, ye must be out of yer mind. I’m nae sleepin’ with ye.”

“Who said anythin’ about sleepin’?” he countered, trying to spook her, but she was not to be cowed it seemed.

“That’s all ye’ll be doin’, I assure ye, and alone too,” she replied pertly.

“But ye’re me wife. Ye havetae submit tae yer husband,” he pointed out, beginning to find her refusal somewhat of an exciting challenge. She simply laughed again.

“I’ll tell ye what, I’ll lay with ye if ye can overpower me in a fight,” she offered, sounding confident.

“Well, all right,” Alec said, something unnamed stirring in his belly. “I accept yer challenge.”