Page 43 of Craved By a Highland Beast

Her own breath caught in her throat as Evan leaned closer and her eyes slipped shut, eagerly awaiting the kiss he would give her. Just as she felt the first brush of his lips on hers, though, a thunderous knock echoed in the room.

Bonnie planted her hands on Evan’s chest and pushed him back before she could even realize what she was doing, but Evan was already stepping backwards, putting distance between them. It was too late, though; Bonnie had gathered too much momentum and she planted right into Evan’s chest, the two of them falling backwards for a few terrifying seconds before he managed to right them both, one hand on Bonnie’s waist and the other on the post of her bed.

“Miss MacLaren?”

It’s Ruthven!

Evan, too, must have recognized the voice, as the two of them stared at each other, wide-eyed. Slowly, he brought his finger to his lips, silently motioning for her to be quiet.

“Miss MacLaren, may I come in?”

“One moment!” Bonnie shouted, as she had no other choice. Ruthven knew she was in the room if he was so insistent, and she couldn’t remain silent and let him enter when she and Evan were in such a compromising position.

Taking a few steps back from him, she looked frantically around the room, trying to find a place for him to hide. At first, she thought about shoving him in the closet, but it seemed too small for a man his size. One wrong move and he would spill right out of it in front of Ruthven’s eyes.

“Hide!” she hissed at him. Evan, too, was trying to find a hiding spot, before giving up on something more creative and falling to the floor. Quickly, he shimmied under the bed, his bulk knocking once against the frame before he settled—surely with no comfort—into the small space.

Bonnie took a moment to breath and smooth her cloak over her torso. Clearing her throat, she said, “Come in.”

The door opened to reveal Ruthven, looking regal as always in his extravagant tunic, the fur trim of his collar an unnecessary expense for something that he only wore to break his fast. It didn’t surprise Bonnie, though; every time she saw him, he looked even more grand than the last.

“Good mornin’, Miss MacLaren,” Ruthven said, his curious eyes taking in her appearance and then the tub full of water near her. “Are ye headin’ somewhere?”

For a moment, Bonnie frowned in confusion before she remembered she was still wearing her cloak. “Ach! I was on me way tae the gardens, actually . . . it seems like such a lovely day.”

As she spoke, both she and Ruthven glanced at the world outside, where most of the sun was concealed by dark clouds, nothing but a few golden rays shining through.

“Indeed,” Ruthven said with a tight-lipped smile. “Perhaps ye wish tae dry yer hair first. Ye will catch a cold.”

Bonnie’s hand shot up to her still soaking hair, throat convulsing as she tried to swallow around the knot there. “How foolish I am!” she said, her voice sounding shrill even to her own ears. “I must have forgotten.”

Ruthven stared at her as if she truly was quite dull-witted, though Bonnie could hardly blame him. “Well . . . I came tae ask ye if ye would like tae ride with me tae the loch on the morrow, as we discussed. Hopefully it will be an even nicer day.”

With an awkward laugh, Bonnie dragged her gaze away from the window, cursing under her breath for the terrible excuse she had given him.

How can I avoid this ride? I was the one who suggested it in the first place!

The more she stalled in her answer, the more expectantly Ruthven looked at her, hands clasped behind his back and he shifted his weight back and forth from foot to foot. In the end, Bonnie realized there was nothing she could do but agree.

“I would be delighted,” she said, only for something to pinch her ankle, making her jump in surprise.

“Are ye alright?” Ruthven asked, brows furrowing in a frown.

“Och aye,” Bonnie assured through gritted teeth, subtly trying to kick Evan’s hand away. “I believe there must be somethin’ in me shoe. Well! It doesnae matter. Shall we leave after we break our fast?”

Ruthven tilted his head in agreement. “I would like that, aye.”

Another pinch from Evan, this time more insistent. “Ach!” said Bonnie, suddenly aware of what he was trying to tell her. “But I would like tae have a chaperone with us. Me cousin. It is only proper that Evan accompanies us while we’re nae yet wed, dinnae ye think?”

Ruthven’s lips split into a wide grin, one that looked a little too pleased for Bonnie’s tastes. What was it, she wondered, that pleased him so about her request? Surely, he would rather itwas only the two of them, with no one else to interfere with his courting plans.

“Excellent,” said Ruthven. “As ye said . . . it is only proper.”

For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Ruthven stared at Bonnie as though he was looking straight into her mind, peering into her thoughts. It was a ridiculous notion, and yet Bonnie couldn’t help but feel a raw vulnerability, as if she had been flayed open right before his eyes.

“I will leave ye, then, tae finish . . . whatever it is yer doin’,” Ruthven said. “Good day, Miss MacLaren.”

“Good day.”

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