Mysty McPartland by Black Warlock's Woman Read Free Book Online Page A

He glanced around and grimaced the second he noticed Devena sitting at the table next to his chair.
    D amn the woman, he needed to get rid of her because her presence only upset Trista. He would have to think of something and quickly. “Come along, sweet, the clan is waiting for us to seat ourselves.” He scowled darkly when she wouldn’t budge and inch.
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    Still dazed Trista reluctantly let him lead her over to the high table, .when her husband leaned down and whispered that she continue, she glared at him. “I think not, Sir. The table looks over-crowded as it is and I refuse to share it with your harlot. Now if you will excuse me, I will retire to my room.”
    Tightly holding on to his temper, he tugged on her arm. “The table willnae be so crowded in a few moments and as I told ye she is nay my lover.” Not waiting for an answer, he kept walking, practically dragging his reluctant bride along beside him.
    When they reached the table, he glowered down at Devena. “Once again ye over step ye bounds, wench. Ye have nay been asked to sit with my wife and myself, or at my table now get yeself gone.” He ignored her venomous glare and waited until she removed herself. Turning to his bride he arched a brow. “Happy now?”
    Not in the least bit pleased she gave her husband a slight nod, but still eyed him with disgust. Seating herself, she folded her hands in her lap and refused to look at him again.
    Sighing heavily in displeasure, women, he thought they were such a troublesome bunch. Sitting down, he reached over and took one of her hands from her lap. His lips quirked at her struggle to deny him, but he held her firmly and waited for his clan to seat themselves.
    Once everyone sat down, he stood forcing her to stand beside him. “My clan, my family I give ye my wife the Lady Trista McKay.” He raised his cup in salute and drank from it, he turned and glanced around the great hall and watched as his clan raised their mugs, but the cheer was less than enthusiastic.
    With a swift peek over at Trista, he saw the unhappiness on her face, and let out a sigh. Dropping her hand, he wrapped his arm around her waist bringing her up tight against his body, he held the cup to her lips. “Ye must take a drink, my sweet.” When her eyes swung to meet his, he noticed the anger blazing in their depths.
    Thankfully , he did not have to force her and she took a sip. With a strength that surprised him, she moved out of his grasped and sat down. He raised a blonde brow in amusement, gave her a cheeky grin before he turned back to his clan. “Let the feast begin.” And when the roar of cheers came from his people, he sat down and turned to his wife. “Ye must smile, lass, and at least pretend to be happy.”
    She was so furious she could spit. All she wanted to do was tear his eyes out, but instead forced a smile on her lips and pretended to enjoy herself. Her thoughts though were on what had she done, throughout the ceremony all she wanted to do was pick up her skirts and flee, however, it was far too late by then. Not only because he had held her gently but firmly, but where would she run to?
    In a daze she felt the soft touch of his lips brush against her own and she could only stare up at him in a muddle of confusion. When he smiled at her so tenderly, she forced herself to harden her heart against his tenderness. She was not going to let him bewitch her with the falseness of his caring attitude. No, she wasn’t about to let herself be so gullible again.
    After all he was the Black Warlock and a deceiver . It still made her blood boil every time she thought of his harlot. He must think she was a dimwit to believe his lie about the woman not being his lover. Ha, he was an imbecile if he thought she was taken in by his lie. 
    Her gaze swept around the great hall and finally landed on the spiteful trollop who was glaring back at her with loathing and rage. She jerked her chin in the air and sneered distastefully back. If her