The Wrong Bride by Callen Gayle

Author:Callen, Gayle [Callen, Gayle]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2015-08-31T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

Riona knew that something had happened between him and Alasdair by the thundercloud that was Hugh’s lowered brows. The bard sang as if to distract him, but it didn’t work. Hugh glowered at her and drank too much, and she began to feel uneasy. Tonight she could be trapped with—or tied to!—a drunken Highlander in a terrible temper. What was he capable of?

They retired to their separate rooms soon after, and she found herself pacing. She’d ordered a bath to be brought to him, and she hoped the heat was soaking away the alcohol.

She paused, straining to listen when she thought she heard something from his room. Her curiosity began to get the best of her, and she wanted to be prepared, so she gently opened the door and crept into the dressing room, lit only with a candle. They hadn’t used this room much yet, for they hadn’t entertained family or friends. She had no ladies to sew with—although Hugh’s family was supposedly arriving soon, and that would change, she thought glumly. At least now, her days were her own.

At the door to Hugh’s room, she leaned to put an ear next to it. Misjudging in the dark, she gently banged her head against it instead. Wincing, she began to retreat.

“Lingering at my door, Riona?” he called.

His words didn’t sound slurred, and she tried to take that as a good sign. But she said nothing, hoping he’d think it only a castle cat.

“Open the blasted door and get in here!” he shouted.

She let out her breath on a shaky exhale and did as he commanded. Running away would only make him chase her, and might end up worse for her.

She froze in the doorway upon finding Hugh still in his bath before the fire. His wet shoulders gleamed above the rim, his dark hair was damp and hung in waves to those broad shoulders. There was a goblet on a stool beside him, and he reached for it and took a drink, head turned to eye her.

“Close the door; there’s a draft,” he said coldly.

She did so, then leaned back against it.

“You were so curious about my bath. Come closer.”

She wanted to refuse, but found herself taking several steps. She wasn’t curious—she was afraid, she reminded herself sternly. He was like a god here, and she was his prisoner.

Luckily, the room was lit only by a few candles, and it was rather murky and soapy beneath the surface of the water. She shouldn’t be looking.

She concentrated on his face and spoke matter-of-factly. “Why are you in such a foul temper? There has to be more than your problem with your tenants and Dermot. Or do you let such a little setback bother you?”

He leaned his head back and stared at her with narrowed eyes. She should focus on that, but the hair on his chest was damp, and seemed to point downward . . .

“Alasdair had news for me tonight, but ye didn’t hear him tell me.”

She frowned. “No, I didn’t.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.