Page 23 of The Highlander's Dangerous Bride

They ate in silence for a little while, simply enjoying the good food.

Arne did not know what made him say it, but he suddenly found himself blurting out, “This takes me back tae happier times.”

Raven looked at him, then looked back to her dinner, as if to hide the slight flush that appeared in her cheeks. “Aye, it daes,” she replied in a low voice. “We often had beef fer our dinner when ye used tae visit me at Mhairi’s house. D’ye recall?”

“The beef or visitin’ ye at Mhairi’s?”

She flicked her eyes at him, and he relented. “Of course, I remember it all very well.”

“D’ye remember the first time we met?”

Arne hesitated, in two minds whether to admit he remembered every moment of being with her, from the first to the last. Finally, he nodded. “I saw ye before I kent yer name.”

“Did ye?” she asked, her expression brightening suddenly as she looked into his eyes. “I saw ye too. Ye ordered a second helping of the beef, I seem tae remember.”

“So, I could talk tae ye, aye,” he confessed before he could stop himself.

Again, she flicked a glance at him and looked away, her cheeks still pink. “I

was glad ye did.”

That small sentence made Arne’s heart clench in his chest as powerful emotions gripped him. The bittersweet memories of those happier times, which he had tried so hard to block out, came flooding back to him. He felt the need to protect himself from them, lest his resolve to keep Raven at arm’s length should further weaken.

“I went there lookin’ tae pay fer a courtesan’s company fer the night,” he said bluntly, feeling like a beast when he saw pain flicker across her face. But she quickly composed her features, saying nothing in response to his jibe and continuing to eat her dinner.

Still, he felt bad for hurting her again, and after a few moments, he said in a softer tone, “But I found ye instead.”

“Aye, ye found me, the maid,” she said almost wistfully. She paused for a moment, chewing a mouthful of the meat. Then she chuckled and said, “All the courtesans were dyin’ fer yer attention. They thought ye so handsome and charmin’, a welcome change from their usual clientele.”

“I’m flattered. ’Tis nae every day I have women fightin’ over me.”

She laughed softly. “Aye, they all wanted tae spend the night with ye, and they couldnae understand why ye seemed tae prefer the company of the maid. Morag was furious at first.”

Arne could not hold back his smile. “Aye, I could tell. She didnae want tae be out of pocket when she saw I’d taken a fancy tae ye instead of one of her painted ladies.”

“She kept trying tae put ye off and tempt ye away, but ye kept me talkin’ at yer table fer ages that first night.”

“Aye, and fer many a night after that,” he agreed. “That’s why I always made sure tae spend plenty of money whenever I came tae see ye, so she’d nae be angry about our… friendship.”

Their eyes met then, and he felt a silent communication pass between them that words could never express. The tension between them was almost tangible.

“I’ve missed it… our friendship,” she said quietly. “D’ye remember how ye’d wait fer me tae finish work, and then we’d go tae me chamber and talk and talk intae the night about all sorts of things?”

“Aye, I remember,” he replied, unconsciously warming to the subject. “D’ye remember how many times I beat ye at chess?”

She laughed, the full-throated laugh he recalled. It sent goosebumps rising all over his skin. “Ye mean all those times I let ye win?”

“God, we used tae play fer hours, eh? All night sometimes.”

“Aye, and then I’d have tae go tae work and drag mesel’ around the place half asleep,” she answered, chuckling at the memory. Then she looked at him and asked, “Why did ye pick me when ye could have had one of the courtesans?”

He shrugged, putting his empty plate back on the tray and picking up his ale. “I liked the look of ye, and then, when we started talkin’, I found I just liked ye. Any conversation a man has with a courtesan is one he’s paid fer. They tell him what he wants tae hear. ’Tis nae a real conversation at all. With ye, it was real.”

“It was good, was it nae, Arne, what we had?” she asked after a few moments, her light-brown eyes almost pleading as they searched his face. She was getting too close, making him feel things he did not want to feel. His anger flared.

“Aye, it was good. But I think it always meant a lot more tae me than it did tae ye.” The memory stung him afresh.

“’Tis nae true at all! Why d’ye say that?” she shot back, clearly hurt.

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