Tamed By The Highlander (Kilts & Kisses 1)

“Well,” Rhona smiles impishly at Cat. “Lucky for you, word seems to have traveled far about how difficult you are, after that one suitor your father tried last year.”

The four of us devolve into laughter, giggling and snorting as the carriage bumps over the road.

Rhona’s not wrong. Word probably has gotten around about how “headstrong” or “strong-willed” Cat is, which is probably doing a fine job of scaring away would-be suitors. That said, I’m sure I have just as notorious a reputation for being “disobedient” as she does. Which is to say, I choose not to cowtail to a man just because he wears a title. Or just because he’s a man, at that. No thank you.

Believe me when I say it’s brought me my fair share of trouble and stern talks over the years. Unfortunately, it hasn’t stopped me from being married off to a man I’ve never met before, though.

Hamish Ballentyne.

I know practically nothing about him aside from the fact that he’s the Lord of Dungow Castle, up here in the Highlands. We’ve never met, as it was only my mother and father who made the journey twice before to come to him to arrange the marriage terms. Although Cat isn’t entirely wrong, even my mother told me how apparently handsome Lord Ballentyne is.

I blush as I let my eyes drink in the grey wet beauty of the coastline, my thoughts drifting back to where they were minutes before. Because as mad as I am at being sold like cattle to some man who I’m sure has every intention of turning me into some sort of servant woman to obey his every wish, there’s another thought. A wicked thought, and I can’t get it out of my head.

It’s the thought that a man I don’t even know is going to be my husband within the few hours. A man I don’t know is going to… well…

…Do what husbands do to their wives.

I blush furiously as the thought simmers through my head like fire. As pure as I am, I’m not completely in the dark. I know what happens on wedding nights. And other nights after that. I know what I’ve heard happening from time to time, if my window back home happens to be open, and if Sean, the captain of our guardsmen, happens to have Elise, our chambermaid, visiting his quarters late at night.

The heat on my face burns hotter, along with a far more wicked heat between my legs as I think about the times I’ve lain awake at night, listening to the sounds she makes.

I know the idea of a man I don’t know, and who I’m effectively being sold to doing that to me should repulse me. It should horrify me. And yet, it doesn’t.

It excites me.

I haven’t met Lord Ballentyne, but I have heard the whispers. Like the ones from every woman who’s ever seen him about how handsome he is. I know he spent years away from his homeland fighting in the Crusade in the Holy Land. I know he’s got a reputation for being short of temper and fiercely strong in his ruling.

…I know that the idea of a man like that… taking me has my pulse quickening far faster than it ought to. I know it’s sending all manner of sinful thoughts through my wicked head that I’d do well to get rid of, and fast.

I shiver, swallowing away the heat in my cheeks as I force a neutral smile to my face.

“Thank you all for coming.”

“Watching the famously headstrong Una MacKay sit still for one second while some big scary Lord makes her his wife?” Cat grins as she squeezes my hand.

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Ailith smiles impishly at me. “Now, Una, do you think you’ll be able to put down the books long enough to attend the ceremony?”

I’m about to protest when I suddenly cringe as I glance down at my hands.

Of course, I’m holding a book right now.

My friends giggle around me as my face burns hot.

“Well, get your reading in now, Una,” Rhona says with a small smile. She nods past me out the window.

“Because we’re here.”

I blink, quickly whirling to look out at the massive castle sitting on top of the cliffs. It’s completely snuck up on me, maybe from the angle of the road approaching it. But sure enough, here we are, and the carriage beings to slow as we approach the massive front doors and the huge wooden drawbridge across the deep trench surrounding the walls.

Cat squeezes my hand reassuringly.

“If you want to run, you know I’m here to help.”

I smile, squeezing her hand right back, even if I know it’s not a reality.

“I’ll remember that, thanks Cat.”

There’s the heavy sound of castle doors opening, and then the sound of our carriage and the three others in our caravan rumbling across the drawbridge, and into the castle.