Page 36 of Promised to the Ruthless Laird
He studied her for a long moment as she mustered all that was left of her strength, before nodding. His fingers traced gentle circles, working the balm into her skin with more care than he ever had used touching anyone before. The tenderness of the act unsettled him more than the bloodshed had.
“Now yer neck,” he murmured.
She swallowed hard, tilting her head, baring the bruised skin for him. Finley i pressed his fingers to her delicate throat, smoothing the balm in with slow, deliberate movements. The way she held herself still, the way her pulse fluttered beneath his touch, it did something to him.
His thumb brushed just below her jaw. She tensed beneath him, and his own breathing grew slower, heavier. The only sounds between them were the wind whispering through the trees and the distant call of an owl.
At last, he broke the silence. “Who were they?”
He saw it then — the hesitation in her eyes, the flicker of something she meant to keep from him.
And then, at last, she said, “They were followin’ ye.”
Following him? Why? And how did she know? It didn’t make any sense.
His hands stilled against her shoulder. He did not pull away. “What d’ye mean?”
She wet her lips, as if bracing herself. “I ken because I was followin’ ye too. Long before we met at the inn.”
A moment of silence stretched between them, heavy and charged.
Finley felt it settle deep in his chest, a sharp realization pressing against his ribs. These people had been after him. But Edin knew, for she had followed him too. And she had never said a word. Why? It had to be because she wanted to be in control, but the thought stirred something warm and electric inside him, making his stomach flutter.
“Ye were followin’ me?” He tried to keep his voice as quiet as possible. He didn’t want her to know the way his heartbeat pounded at the thought of her following him all along. “How long?”
“Days. Mayhap a week.”
Finley leaned back on his heels, his gaze never leaving her face. “And ye saw them then? The men who came after us tonight?”
“Aye.” Edin squared her shoulders. “I saw them followin’ ye nearly the entire time.”
He swore under his breath, raking a hand through his hair as if to brush the anger off. “And I didnae even ken it. Bloody fool that I am.”
“They were careful,” she said, voice quieter now. “I wouldnae have noticed either, had I nae been watching.”
A short, humorless laugh escaped his lips as he realized that he had really been as careless as Edin had accused him of being.She had been right all along. “That’s nae much comfort, lass. Nae when I’ve spent years training.”
He rose, moving toward the two fallen men, their bodies still as stone. Crouching, he began to search them, his hands moving with efficiency, despite his stomach twisting at the feel of dead bodies underneath his palms.
A moment later, a sharp hiss of breath escaped him as he spotted the Mackay crest on one of their bodies.
“What is it?” Edin shifted behind him.
Finley turned, the dim light catching the metal pin clutched between his fingers.
“Clan Mackay,” he murmured, his chest tightening with fury, the rage spreading through him, making his body tremble. “The damned bastards.”
“Ye ken what they want wi’ ye?” Edin’s voice broke through his, her tone sharp, but laced with a thread of something softer. She already suspected the answer, but she still asked, her gaze fixed on him.
Finley exhaled sharply, rubbing his face, trying to brush off the anger. “Aye. I ken well enough. But it daesnae make a damn bit o’ sense that they’d send men this far south just fer me.” He felt the pressure of it settle in his chest, tight and uncomfortable. Hecouldn’t fathom why they’d come after him, no matter how much he thought about their history.
She frowned, her brow furrowing slightly as she considered the implications. “Mayhap it isnae just ye they want.”
The words hit him harder than he expected. He turned his head to meet her gaze, something cold flickering in his chest, a sharp realization that cut through the fog of his thoughts. He couldn’t tell if she was right. But the idea of being a pawn in someone else’s game, of being a means to an end for someone else’s purpose, set his nerves on edge.
“Aye, mayhap. But whatever it is, we best find out fast.” His voice, rough and tense, barely kept the edge of panic from slipping through. The thought of someone using Davina — or worse, targeting something else through her — tore him apart.
She nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing, calculating. “They were careful,” she said at last. “Kept their distance, waitin' fer the right moment. I imagine they didnae move in until they got the word tae dae so.”
