Sleepless Night：A Highlander Time Travel(8)

I wasn't overly familiar with my Scottish history, but I did know that the English crushed the clans in horrible battles and other cruel acts.

If she were comparing me to the English, she certainly thought the worst of me. The bitch was actually lovely. Blonde hair hung long down her back almost to her waist, a color I knew—even if hair dye hadn't been invented yet—was natural. Most women would kill for that shade. She had blue eyes, but now they were narrowed and gazing at me with anger and hatred. Did I know her? Had I ever slapped her before? Because she was deserving of one now.

"And why is that?" Ian asked. He took my elbow in his large grasp and pulled me into his side. While I could hear the sharp bite in his voice, his touch was gentle. His thumb even caressed the crook of my arm. Was this a reassuring gesture for him or for me?

Glancing left and right, she took a step closer, but Ian held up his hand to stop her. "Ye dinna want everyone to hear of her fornicating ways."

The room had gone quiet, much easier that way to listen in on our conversation. Surely they all knew the players here and would feed off of a wedding day catfight for years.

Fornicating ways? She was calling me a slut! Oh God. What had I done before I married Ian? Had I slept with his brother or something? Oh shit, had I slept with Glynnis? I bit my lip at the idea, but I had to assume that since I didn't swing that way in the future, that I hadn't in previous lives either.

"Fornicating ways?" Ian glanced down at me. "She was married to Duncan nigh on two years. Explain yourself, lass."

Instead of saying more, Glynnis reached into a hidden pocket in her dress and pulled out a small object that looked like a white hot dog. I didn't have time to consider the fact that I'd been married to some guy named Duncan when Ian took the hot dog from her. It wasn't that he'd taken it from her, but the way he'd all but yanked it from her grasp and stuck it into his kilt. Did he have a pocket in there, too?

"Dinna ye want to know how she used that?" Glynnis asked. I felt like I was back in high school and Glynnis was a cruel cheerleader. "I was supposed to be yours, Ian. I'm pure. I'm a MacInnes." Her eyes all but pleaded with Ian, then she looked to me. As if I were road kill. "She willna make ye happy like I can."

"Is there a problem here, laird?" A big, burly man came to stand beside Glynnis, interrupting her. "Why are ye not off tupping that bride of yours? Dinna worry for the English this night."

"Hello, Ronald. It seems that Glynnis was offering her good tidings on my marriage."

Good tidings? Good tidings? That woman had the look of a beauty queen but clearly had the heart of a sociopath. She gave me the creeps, and I was definitely a little worried.

Ian's intense gaze held Glynnis in thrall, but she slowly dropped her brash sway for curled shoulders. She glanced away and I could see a blush creep into her pale cheeks as she realized that Ian wasn't planning on dumping me and running off with her. I doubted the truth of her actions when I saw a small smirk play about her lips. She was an incredible actress.

"That was verra kind of her," Ronald added, and I could tell he had a sense of the unsaid words.

"Now that she's done that, I will be claiming my bride." He glanced from me to Ronald. "Glynnis needs a husband. As her uncle and guardian, I suggest you find one for her before I do."

The man's bushy eyebrows went up before looking down at Glynnis. "So that's the way of it then. Aye, laird. Seamus McClellan has been sniffing after her. Perhaps it's time for the banns."

Glynnis' mouth fell open. "Seamus? Are ye daft? He says he'll take me o'er his knee!"

"Aye, lass, perhaps that's just what ye need," Ronald replied.

I tried to hide my smile at the look on Glynnis' face. It sounded like the shrew would be wed to a man who just might be able to control her. As long as he lived miles and miles away, I didn't care who she wed.

"As for tupping my wife," Ian told the man. "Tis time."





CHAPTER FOUR


Lexy



Before I knew it, Ian had tossed me up and over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. While there wasn't a fire, I did sense an eagerness in him. A roar of shouts and cheers—plus a mix of raunchy descriptions of fucking—filled the air. Ian carried me across the room and through a doorway. He used his foot to kick the door shut behind him. Carefully, he lowered me to the ground, my body sliding down every delicious inch of him. Keeping his hands on my waist, he let me get my balance.

He didn't look angry at me, but I was too confused, too overwhelmed with just popping into my own wedding that I had no idea what to think.

As he kept his eyes on me, Ian silently walked to a chair by the large stone fireplace and sat down. The room wasn't large and as it was situated just off the large main room, I had to guess it was an office or a meeting room of some kind. Perhaps a small dining room because there was a large wood table that took up most of the space. A fire was lit in the hearth, small flames licked at logs warming the entire room. It also cast a soft, warm glow to the room. One piece of kindling collapsed and sparks floated up into the air. Was it the fire or Ian's eyes on my body that heated me so? His gaze never wavered. My heart rate did. The way he was looking at me was as if he couldn't get enough. With the way his fingers clenched the wooden arms of the high backed chair, it was as if he was restraining himself. Like a predator waiting for the moment to attack.