Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“Do not say you are someone else again. I mean it, Isobel. You are close to pushin’ me too far. We may no’ want to be, but we are husband and wife.” He peered out the window opposite mine. “The vows were spoken, and canna be undone.”
Chapter
Three
Sword Social Circles: When He Comes With A Berserker Brigade
From A Beginner’s Guide to Berserker Bliss
Author Unknown
Igaped at my companion as we bumped along a dirt road. What did he mean, he didn’t want to be married to me? Wasn’t like he’d been forced into this insane situation. Look at him. So powerful and authoritative, able to command people with a head tilt. And oh, wow, did he smell nice. Reminded me of the essence of Scotland itself. Or something a romance novel warrior might exude. Rainfall, a hint of peat smoke, and midnight fantasies.
For some reason, that scent eased much of my fear. Which made no sense. And yet, my brain suddenly, adamantly insisted anyone who smelled so good couldn’t be a villain.
Fighting the urge to lean in and sniff straight from the tap, I shifted to peer out my window and reboot. Where was I? Lush green hills, a babbling brook, and carpets of thistle…Oh! The Highlands. I’d come here on a couple of tours.
How far were we from civilization? And what was my next move? Jump out of the car at the first opportunity? The countryside stretched forever, with no other living person in sight. Probably better to wait until we reached a more populated area and figure something out from there.
Unless we headed to an even more remote region. I licked my lips and gulped.
Where was my body? Was Isobel in it? Had she flown to Oklahoma, or had she remained in Scotland? Did my family worry about me?
I stewed in silence for an eternity, wiggling constantly, trying to get more comfortable while also avoiding touching Mr. Bruce. He only ever twirled the signet ring around his finger.
Finally a cityscape with crowded roads, open shops, and brimming restaurants came into view. A whimper reverberated in my throat as I pressed my palm against the glass. People!
Mr. Bruce maintained a bored air until the car stopped in front of the Glen Highland Hotel, a beacon of timeless charm and grandeur. Honestly the fanciest resort I’d ever seen. The building must be over a hundred years old, yet it blended beautifully with its modern porte-cochère.
“You will remain at my side, conduct yourself as clan etiquette demands, and dazzle the masses,” my companion stated. “Do you understand?”
Dazzle the masses? “Are you serious? I’m not even wearing shoes.” Plus, I’d never been an accomplished lady of many talents, able to entertain at will. I mean, yes, I amused my students. But I highly doubted he and his clan would enjoy a puppet show or a fun game of balloon toss.
He peered at my bare feet, fierce emotion flickering across his face, there and gone in a blink. Then his dark blue gaze met mine and constricted. “Our guests will assume you’re following an ancient custom.”
“What custom?” I asked because yes, curiosity got the better of me. I loved learning.
“Must I carry you, or will you behave and walk?” he asked with a sigh, ignoring my question as Angus opened his door.
For a chance to speak to a hotel employee… “I’ll walk, thank you.” I pasted on another smile.
A muscle jumped beneath his eye, but he emerged from the vehicle without further comment. When he held out a hand, intending to assist me, I noted the large scar dominating his palm. Different size circles, set in a pattern of three. My brow furrowed. A brand? It was a bigger version of the circles etched into the wedding band still encircling my ring finger. What did it mean?
I brushed him aside and climbed out on my own. Not as elegantly as I’d hoped, but hey, I never fell, and I made a point. Just don’t ask me what kind of point.
With a low grunt, Mr. Bruce wound an arm around my waist and urged me forward. The road grit coated my feet, making me grimace, but I refused to complain, certain he’d whisk me onto his shoulder again.
Uniformed attendants opened the wide double doors. Once inside, Buzz and Ponytail took up posts behind us. No matter. I could work around them. Despite the intimidating opulence of the lobby, I shouted to the patrons milling about, “Help me! I’ve been kidnapped!”
Everyone paused and stared in our direction, adopting expressions that ranged from humor to horror. A concierge leaped into action, rushing over. Mr. Bruce gave a stiff jerk of his chin, and the man instantly retreated. The other guests and staff looked away, suddenly busy, as I tried to make eye contact.
What would it take to find a knight in shining armor around here?