Highlander The Cursed Lord (Highland Intrigue Trilogy 3)

She pushed at his chest and wiggled off his lap and out of his arms. “That is no answer, Rannick. You order me to obey to ease your fears while escalating mine. That is not fair.”

“Fair or not, it is the way it will be,” Rannick said, getting to his feet.

“Nay, it will not,” Bliss said defiantly and grabbed her cloak as she went to the door.

“Do not walk away from me,” he ordered curtly.

Bliss flung open the door, paying him no heed, and hurried toward the keep.

“BLISS!” Rannick shouted from the open doorway.

She ignored him and kept going.

That his wife refused to see reason gripped Rannick with anger and he rushed after her. He heard the close cry of a raven before he felt the sharp peck on his head. He looked to see the blackbird circle overhead and dive at him once more. He swatted at the feathered menace, but it did little good. The raven kept diving at him and squawking loudly.

Bliss turned when she heard her husband swear out loud and seeing him trying to swat the determined raven away, she ran to him.

“Begone with you!” she commanded, waving her hand at the sizeable black bird and the raven flew off after one last, loud squawk.

Rannick’s eyes narrowed, annoyed that his wife commanded the raven with such ease and order, “Stay where you are!”

Bliss tossed her chin up defiantly, hiked up the hem of her garments, and took off running for the keep. She cried out when she was suddenly scooped up off her feet and flung over her husband’s shoulder. She should have known that she could not outrun him.

“Put me down!” she demanded, humiliation flaming her cheeks. What must the people think? If it was anything like the two guards at the keep door, they were finding it amusing.

“Rannick, whatever are you doing?” his mum asked when he entered the Great Hall.

“It is no concern of yours, Mum,” he said and kept walking.

“You humiliate me,” Bliss accused as he climbed the stairs.

“You did that yourself when you refused to obey me… more than once,” Rannick emphasized.

He deposited her on her feet once in their bedchamber.

“I thought you would understand,” she said.

“And I assumed you would see reason,” he countered.

“I do not wish to see or speak with you right now… leave,” she ordered, knowing any further discussion would only make the matter worse.

He grabbed her chin. “Do not ever make the mistake of ordering me from our bedchamber.”

For a moment, she caught a glimpse in his eyes of the cold, unfeeling man she had first met at the cottage in the woods, the one she had feared meeting. The man who had isolated himself to keep others safe. The man who had killed to keep her safe. The man who worried over her and loved her.

Bliss stepped away from him to gather her senses and he did not stop her. She went to the hearth to stare down at the flames, the heat reddening her cheeks. She had foolishly argued with him and lost her temper, and for what? Time and patience would have taken care of it, so why let her temper flare? Why cry? She had always remained calm in difficult times and handled troubling situations calmly as well. Whatever was the matter with her?

His arms came around her, his hands locking at her sides, and she leaned back against him.

“I only want to keep you safe, Bliss.”

His beard tickled her temple where he rested his cheek, and his warm breath fanned her already heated cheek.

“I do not wish to argue with you, wife. It hurts my heart and, therefore, it must hurt yours, for we are joined you and me, and nothing will change that, not even a foolish argument.”

She turned in his arms, tears once again gathering in her eyes. A quick finger at her lips prevented her from speaking.

“We both want the same… to keep the ones we love safe. We will find a way to see it done.” He wiped away her tears. “It breaks my heart that I made you cry, though I fear while it is the first time, it probably will not be the last.”

“You can be difficult,” she said on an exaggerated sigh.

“Life is difficult, but I do not want it to be difficult between us.”

“On that I agree.”

He kissed her gently, though not for long. It turned demanding soon enough, their fight leaving him with a churning passion. When she responded in kind, demanding of him as much as he did of her, he scooped her up in his arms and walked to the bed.

“The servants will talk of how much time we spend in our bedchamber during the day,” she whispered.

“And they will know it’s all your fault,” he teased.

“How is it my fault?” she asked, startled by the accusation.