Free Dark Side of the Laird (Highland Bound) by Eliza Knight Page A

stopped behind her and growled, “I also get what I want.”
    “Appears not so in this case, though, I canna imagine why ye dinna want to marry me. I’m ten times the woman that simpering whore is.”
    I gripped her by the arms and whirled her around, my fingers clenching tight to her chin, lifting her face up to mine. “Dinna ever speak about her in such a way. Ye and her could never compare. Never.”
    “As I said, ” she retorted haughtily.
    I laughed bitterly. “Nay, lass, ’tis as I say, and I’ll nay be marrying ye. Not now, nor ever.”
    Isabella actually had the gall to step toward me this time, “And ye won’t be marrying her either.”
    I had to restrain myself from grabbing hold of her and shaking her so hard her neck snapped. The bite in my voice said no less. “That is not for ye to decide.”
    She glowered up at me, and through her impudence, her anger, I could see a hint of fear, as though she did dread failing in whatever she’d been tasked with. “Does it matter? The king has deemed it so. He has sworn to never allow ye to marry that whore.”
    My stomach tightened. I wrenched back my fist, reminding myself that punching a woman went against everything I stood for. Could it be true? Could it be so that he had already expressed such a thing? Not possible. She was bluffing. Playing her cards like the good MacDonald she was. Traitor.
    “But ye see, the king has left without a contract written. Ye’re at my mercy.” I circled her again, stopped behind her, leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Let us pray he doesn’t forget ye.”
    She stiffened. Then turned quickly, our faces only an inch apart. I could see her interest rise, but my disgust did the same. I refused to back down. Refused to step away.
    Isabella glanced toward the ground, then coyly back up at me. “My laird, I dinna want either of us to be uncomfortable here.”
    “Ye mistake me. I’m nay uncomfortable.”
    She shrugged and walked away, sauntering around the room, not looking at anything in particular which made me think she was stalling. The sudden change was jarring. Unsettling.
    “Well, I’ll be honest.” She whirled. “I am.”
    To say I was shocked was an understatement. I kept my mouth clamped firmly closed, afraid of how I might comment. I was ready to toss her out the window to be done with her games. Emma didn’t play games. She was clear and to the point.
    Isabella smiled, though it was rough around the edges. “Ye see, my laird, this is not what I want either. I was perfectly content at my family’s seat. Perfectly content to flirt with warriors and dance at feasts and walk the gardens of my mother’s home. But now I’m here. Told I must marry a man I know nothing about other than he’s a fierce and callous man and everyone seems to hate him.”
    I narrowed my eyes, not trusting her sudden change in attitude. She walked to the window and stared out—almost longingly. I wasn’t buying it.
    “I dinna want to be here,” she whispered. “I dinna want to marry ye.”
    “Then why did ye not tell the king?”
    A sad smile formed on her thin lips. “’Tis not my choice. My uncle has deemed it so. My mother’s brother rules our house. And he petitioned the king who agreed. What am I to do? What am I to say? Nothing. I must comply.” She cast me a pitiful look. “Imagine when I arrived to find ye already in love how much further I sank into despair. I’m so sorry for all the pain I’ve caused Lady Emma. ’Twas not because I have an evil soul, I swear it.”
    All lies. The devil could take lessons from her. “Ye would have me believe that ye’re sincere?” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at her hard, trying to see into the depths of her dark and cunning eyes.
    “Aye. I pray ’tis so.”
    I scowled, detesting the way she attempted to play me for a fool. “And what would ye have me do?”
    She shrugged and her dress slipped slightly off her shoulder. “I suppose ye’ll fight every