Chapter 8

8

Lana wanted to get away from him. She finally understood that this man did not care who he wed, only that he had someone to warm his bed and take care of his motherless child.

She was breathless at the realization. She knew he would not love her. He had made that very clear. But she thought, at least, that there had been a reason he chose her.

Pain radiated from her chest as she realized she was simply a woman who found herself in his crosshairs. Daniel didn't care who she was. He just cared about fulfilling his duty, and he didn't care who he hurt in the process.

Lana tried to walk away. She didn't know where she was headed, but she knew she needed to leave. But as soon as she turned around, his hand was on her wrist. He spun her back as he stood up, and suddenly her body was trapped against the table, his eye staring down at her.

"And did ye treat me any better?" he asked. He was so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. "Ye needed a man to save ye last night. Anyone would have served ye."

Lana felt drunk on his proximity. The table pressed into the backs of her thighs as he edged ever closer to her, his solid form only inches away from her. Her chest heaved as her breaths came faster. One hand firmly gripped her wrist, and though she should have pulled away, she didn't. Instead, she reveled in the feel of his skin against her own.

"Nothin' to say?" Daniel teased. His mouth was close to her ear, his voice little more than a whisper.

Lana's brain raced with rebuttals, but she couldn't form the words—she could only focus on the feel of his breath fanning her neck, the way his thigh pressed ever so gently against her own. She heard the smallest sigh, a soft moan that was foreign to her ears, and all at once, she realized it had come from her own throat.

Daniel saw this as a victory, she could tell from the smile that spread across his face and the glint of excitement in his eye. Lana was a mix of embarrassment and excitement, unmoored in a moment of passion that she had never found herself in before.

And then Daniel spoke again, his voice deep and velvety.

"Would ye deny me?" he asked. Lana found herself transfixed by his soft pink lips. "If I come to yer bed, will ye turn me away?"

She knew the answer he expected. She knew that he thought she was his to command. But these words woke something up inside of her.

She pushed her way through the desire and the warmth that felt so new and exciting and reminded herself who she was and what she wanted.

"Aye," Lana said, finding her voice.

She stood up taller, letting the movement push Daniel back ever so slightly. He blinked at her, clearly uncertain if he had heard correctly.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

Lana pulled her wrist out of his grip and slid along the edge of the table so she was no longer trapped by his body.

"I willnae lie with ye," she stated, feeling a wave of terror wash over her. "And I willnae give ye bairns. It's me only rule."

She saw the shock on his face, the way he struggled to understand what she was actually saying to him.

Lana stood up straighter as she faced him, and then, mirroring his earlier actions, she held up a single finger.

"One," she said, laying out her rules. "I willnae lie with ye or give ye bairns unless I fall in love with ye."

Her voice was breathy, still affected by his closeness moments ago but also fueled by fear that he might take this poorly. She worried he might yell or knock over a chair, and she worried that she might like it.

"Love," Daniel echoed, his voice dripping with disdain. "Ye willnae give up on that, will ye?"

Lana shook her head, not trusting herself to speak further. When Daniel stepped closer to her, she held her ground, determined not to let him intimidate her. If this man could give her rules, then she could make some of her own.

"Ye ken, love isnae necessary," he said.

He was inches away from her again, though there was no table to trap her against. Lana could move if she wanted to, but she stood still, melting into his closeness once more. His presence made her feel weak, as if she could no longer stand, and suddenly his hand was on the nape of her neck.

"I daenae need ye to love me in order to seduce ye."

His lips hovered over hers. With the smallest movement, Lana could press her lips against his. But she didn't move, and Daniel didn't take her mouth, though she knew she was practically begging for it. Instead, his mouth dropped below her ear, and she felt the first soft touch of his mouth on her neck.

That little moan escaped her lips again, completely unbidden, and she felt him smile. His mouth moved lower, and he was suddenly kissing down her throat. Lana held her breath as his other hand pulled her closer to him, pressing her hips against his own. And then there was a shock of warmth as his tongue slipped out to suck on her neck.

Lana pushed him away, shocked by the bolt of desire that shot down to her toes. She stepped back, so there was space between them and so her brain could form thoughts.

"Ye'll have to do better than that, Me Laird," she said, surprised by the words that came out of her mouth.

She didn't recognize the confident and teasing woman who stood in front of Daniel, challenging him. But she liked the surprise in his eye, and the way he looked at her as if there was no one else in the world he wanted to look at.

"I'll see ye at the wedding," she added, and then she turned around.

She could feel his gaze on her, but instead of making her nervous, it made her feel powerful.

Lana walked slowly toward the door, wanting Daniel to see just how special she was.

Ye dinnae pick just any wife, Laird MacCrawford. If ye thought this was a simple game, it's time to realize it isnae so easily won.

Daniel couldn't think straight. The ride back home was filled with images of Lana, her face upturned, her cheeks flushed. Who was this woman? He had set out to find a wife who would raise his daughter, but he was starting to realize that Lana was a bit more than he had bargained for. Not that he minded. It had been a long time since he had found himself attracted to a woman.

"How was it?" Cameron asked.

Daniel rolled his eye at his brother. His constant presence was starting to get on his nerves. "Why are ye so concerned with me love life?" he asked. "Perhaps it's time we start thinking about yer own."

"Nay." Cameron laughed. "I'm quite content on me own. I kenned ye were, too, until last night. Perhaps it's why I'm so interested."

"I'll thank ye to leave me alone," Daniel mumbled as he handed Clava to the waiting stable hand. "Unless ye have an interest in planning a wedding."

"So it's happening?" Cameron asked, his face bright.

"Aye, but daenae get excited. It will be a small affair, just enough to keep her family pleased and the villagers entertained. I already lived through one giant wedding. I daenae need another."

Daniel strode into the castle, wanting nothing more than to lock himself away in his study. For a man who was used to being on his own, there had been far too much activity in the past twenty-four hours. It was time to hide away from it all for a while.

"The council's waiting for ye."

The words made an irrational anger flood through him. He fought the sudden urge to punch Cameron square in the face, though he knew his brother was only the messenger.

"Why are they here?" Daniel asked through clenched teeth.

"I wouldnae hazard a guess." Cameron shrugged, clearly amused by his brother's frustration. "That's why ye are the Laird and I am nae."

Daniel gave his brother a little shove, a small representation of the violence he wished he could unleash on someone. Hell, at this point, he would feel fine if he could punch a wall. He took a deep breath and held it in as he walked through the council chamber doors. Then he let out his breath in an angry growl as three sets of eyes stared back at him.

"We're all here!" Cameron announced with a buoyancy that made Daniel's blood boil.

Sometimes Daniel wished his brother would handle more of the business. As his man-at-arms, he should be able to rely on him to handle some of these issues. But Cameron had always been quite content with his position as the younger brother.

"Gentlemen," Daniel said, nodding at the three most senior members of his council. "What problem must we solve today?"

"We've heard some rumors," Seamus said, standing in respect for his Laird. The man could have been Daniel's father, but he was always deferential, like a dog who had been kicked in the past. Daniel didn't doubt he had his father to blame for the man's timidity.

"Please tell me ye're nae keeping me from me whiskey because of some rumors."

Daniel threw himself into his chair, letting the back of it bear all of his weight. He was exceedingly tired and images of Lana were still floating through his brain, confusing him.

"They are more than rumors," Groth said. "They are confirmed."

Daniel waited for more, but the men around the table were silent. Sometimes he thought about waiting in these moments, just to see how long it would take before someone would speak without being asked. But he never had the patience for it.

"Well, tell me," he commanded. "What horrible whisperings have yer minions picked up on?"

"It's Laird MacDougal," Seamus said.

Daniel had to stop himself from rolling his eye at the mention of his ex-father-in-law. The man had been a thorn in Daniel's side ever since he agreed to marry his daughter. And after Evelyn's death, things had only gotten worse.

"He's unhappy," Groth explained.

"The man's always unhappy." Cameron snorted. For once he seemed as disinterested in this council business as Daniel. "That is nothing new."

"The man will always blame me for his daughter's death," Daniel told them. He often found it better to throw this into the open rather than make his council talk around his wife's murder. "But his granddaughter still lives in this castle. He's family."

"Aye, and he wants to be shown that." Angus was the third man at the table, the youngest of the group. Daniel had added him to his council after the prowess he had shown on the battlefield. "He doesnae think ye show him the respect he deserves."

"And how can I do that?" Daniel asked. "The man's castle is half a day's journey away. I cannae simply invite him to dinner."

"And why nae?" Groth asked. "It would show him ye respect him. And it would let the man see his granddaughter. He's angry with ye, Daniel. He feels ye are keeping him away from the child."

Daniel scowled at this, but Cameron was the one who refuted it.

"'Tis ridiculous," Cameron declared. "We arenae barrin' him from seeing Skye."

And though Daniel shook his head, as if the idea were preposterous, he knew he was misleading the men at the table. He knew that even though he said Skye's grandfather was welcome, he had spent the better part of three years pushing the man away.

"I'm tired of talking about him," Daniel said, rising from the table. "Send him a pair of horses or some other gesture that will satisfy him. Perhaps there's a parcel of land out there nay one's usin'."

"I think ye need to speak with him," Seamus urged, trying to keep him in his seat. "I think we are beyond gifts and friendly letters. Laird MacDougal is unhappy, and he has a strong clan behind him. Nae to mention powerful friends."

"Ye figure it out," Daniel said, striding toward the door.

He didn't want to think of Evelyn's father. Any reminder of him was a reminder of the woman he had failed to protect. It was a reminder of how he had failed.

"But daenae invite him here," Daniel added, turning back to them. "I cannae have him showing up. I have a wedding to plan."

The shocked expressions on the councilmen's faces almost made the meeting worth it.

Daniel smiled as he pushed his way through the door.