The Highlander's Lady by Eliza Knight Page B

her at Foulis Castle years before , twirled her in his arms, he’d known. Perhaps not consciously, but somewhere deep inside the decision had been made. ’Twas a wonder he’d not thought of her before when his mother had presented him with one laird-hunter after another. Her body had molded to his, her rhythm had been the same as his own, as if they were made to dance together. And there he was back again to the bedding. If they danced so well, their lovemaking would be even better.
    Beyond bodies though, he’d found he liked her. Genuinely. And that didn’t happen so often. Most of the time he found the women he associated with to be shallow or uninterest ing . ’Twas the opposite with Myra. She captivated him.
    Daniel had made the right decision in not telling her they’d met before. Not telling her that he’d known the laird she lost was not just her father but her brother too. Part of him had wanted to call her out on her hiding that fragment of the truth, but he wanted her to… He didn’t know. Trust him ? Was he embarrass ed ? He wasn’t easy to shame , but nothing felt like it normally did when he was around her. Almost as though she brought out a side of himself he didn’t know existed.
    Aye, letting her retain some bit of her secrecy was a good decision for them both . He was sure of it. Now, he just had to prove to her that staying married to him was worth it.
    In order to do that, he had to remain down here. Where she wanted him. When they reached the Bruce, he would talk to the man himself about Foulis. The people there were most likely without protection. Daniel could give them the protection they needed. His clan was vast, wealthy and had the means.
    “More ale? Meat?” one of the tavern wenches sloshed brew from a jug into his mug and then slapped down a large leg foul on a crusty old trencher.
    Daniel nodded, hoping she’d leave him be, but when he noticed it was Sara and her eyes were greedily devouring him, he was pretty sure she wouldn’t just saunter away.
    “Need a real woman for the night, love?”
    Daniel glanced at her face, took in the pock marks and greasy brown hair. “Not today, lass.” He didn’t want to hurt her feelings by saying more.
    Sara glared at him. Apparently denying her was just as bad.
    “Suit yourself.” Her hip bounced off the table upsetting his mug of ale which spilled right into his lap.
    Daniel growled and jerked to standing. The woman didn’t even glance around to see what happened as she marched away .
    Daniel gritted his teeth, thrust aside the urge to grab her and make her clean it up. Instead he stood, sloshed off what he could and stomped up the stairs. Luckily, his plaid didn’t soak in the ale, but he’d had enough watching the men carouse and he was certainly not going to wait for another wench to dump ale all over him.
    Hopefully Myra was out of the tub, and if she wasn’t she would just have to deal with him being in the room. He wasn’t going to spend another moment in the company of anyone else.
    Knocking sharply on the door he waited for the sound of Myra’s voice to let him in. She didn’t take long, in fact , opened the door for him with a welcoming frown.
    But her frown didn’t concern him. He was too busy studying the high cheekbones, arched brow, plush, pink lips. Her hair shined clean. Amazing what a little soap did. She’d grown nearly threefold in beauty. Daniel had to admit that he found her scowl charming. He was getting used to her ire. And enjoyed the play of emotions constantly running across her face.
    “Ye’re back awfully soon,” she grumbled then turned around and walked toward the center of the room .
    Daniel tried not to laugh. Most of her talk was just that—talk. She had a softer side he ’d see n beneath the tough exterior. How he’d enjoy peeling away the layers.
    “Got ale spilled on me.”
    That caught her attention. Myra whirled back, her brow raised questioningly as she glanced him over.
    “Did