Page 16 of The Laird's Dark Obsession

He sneered and looked away. “I dinnae have to explain myself to ye.” When his gaze returned to her, he looked disgusted. “How am I to believe ye’re anything but a traitor? Look at ye. Ye’ve been promised to me since birth and yet here ye are, reeking of yer latest victim.”

He was looking at her dress and accessories. Kira shook her head. “I have nae done anything to Rory.”

“Laird Barclay,” Hunter growled. Clearly, he didn’t like her even sounding close to another man. “And ye surely have. Did ye nae say ye’re an evil and audacious woman? Who would adorn a woman in such fine clothes and trinkets if they kenned she’s evil?”

Kira shook her head as she gawked at him. “Hunter, ye sound absurd.”

“Nae as absurd as my betrothed being dressed in the attire of her adulterer,” he spat. With a bark toward the door, two maids appeared. “Remove all the Lady’s tartan and jewelry. She’s nae to be dressed in anything nae of the Galbraith Clan.”

Kira’s eyes were wide and she backed away. “What is going on? Why do ye care about my clothes right now? We’re meant to be talking about information on my faither.”

Hunter nodded and eyed her. “Aye, but I cannae think about trusting a word out of yer mouth when ye’re dressed as another man’s bride.”

“Why does it matter? What do ye possibly think I’ve done to Laird Barclay to equate my trustworthiness to my betrothal to him?”

He was in her face then, his searching hers deeply. “Ye still dinnae grasp the concept, Kira. Ye aremine.Ye always have been, always will be.” His fingers sifted through her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear before lingering down the side of her neck. “These clothes are a reminder of yer betrayal to me, to allow yerself to be promised to another,” he answered with a snarl on his face.

Then, he leaned in so that his mouth was at her ear. Each breath against her skin made shivers roll down her spine. “And let me make this very, very clear. While ye are in my Keep, ye will wear what I say to wear. Yer attire will match mine. Yer tartan. Yer jewels. Even yer scent must be similar to mine.” He breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of her neck.

Kira was overwhelmed by his closeness at this point, feeling as though even a deep inhale would make them chest to chest. And it was difficult not to get lost in his rugged beauty. His angled cheekbones, his defined nose, the fullness of his lips.

“My scent?” she whispered. “How is that possible? Do ye want me to use yer perfume oils?”

A dark chuckle rose from the back of Hunter’s throat. Then, he took an audible inhale. “So, Laird Barclay has nae had ye yet. Ye still smell the same as ye always have.”

Kira’s eyes went wide and she shoved at his chest to make him back away from her face. “That is none of yer business.”

“Ye’re mine, Kira. It’s always my business,” he said with a smirk pulling her close to him again, though his eyes were dark and dangerous. “And I hate others messing with what is mine.”

With that, he turned on a heel to leave. Kira called after him. “What about my time outdoors?”

“Our conversation is over until ye’ve been changed, and I’ve yet to get anything useful from ye,” he said plainly.

And then, he was gone.

The two maids who remained came closer, and Kira clutched at the necklace around her neck. It had been a betrothal presentfrom Rory, a bloodstone on a gold chain. She wasn’t exactly fond of it, nor did she feel attached to it or the meaning behind it. But in that moment, it took on an entirely new meaning. Her clothes and jewels were all she had that remained of those brief weeks she had been at the Barclay Clan—the only time in her life she had been close to freedom.

And they were being stripped from her, just like her freedom, and replaced with Hunter Galbraith.

7

Hunter feared he would never know peace again.

Not with Kira in his Keep.

Not only did he have to deal with his own tumultuous thoughts about her, but now there was Edine too. His sister stood on the other side of his desk, her arms folded in defiance as she glared at him while he drank his ale.

“Ye’re nae going to get anywhere with yer approach,” she warned.

“I forgot that my dear sister was a specialist in interrogation,” he quipped sarcastically. He took a long sip and shook his head. “I dinnaeneedanything from her. It would be nice to have information, but my plan is already in motion and does not rely on her cooperation.”

“Did faither nae say it’s always best to have as much information as possible to ensure the decisions ye are making are wise instead of naive?” Edine countered. “Having information out of her is for the best, and I hear that she is willing.”

Hunter opened his mouth to counter, but Edine interrupted him. “Ye dinnae put her in the dungeon out of fear for her health. Keeping her in that room will be met with nothing but resistance because she’s going to have nothing to do but sit there and hate ye more with every passing moment.”

Hunter’s face twitched and he rubbed at his jaw as though he could disguise it. “Fine. She can have an hour—one hour—outside. With no less than four guards. Dinnae ask for more right now. I’m already doing too much for her.”

He watched his sister’s reaction and he could tell she was biting back words, no doubt something snarky and annoying. She thanked him and fluttered to the door, but he ordered her to wait. Standing up, he walked to a little cabinet in the corner of the room and opened the top drawer. He picked up a silver chain with a dark blue pendant, holding it in his hand and running a thumb along its smooth surface.