Page 35 of The Highlander's Illicit Bride
“Struan?” she called.
The fog seemed to swallow her voice. She wasn’t sure anybody could have heard her had she screamed at the top of her lungs. It was an irrational fear, but part of her thought her father’s men had found them in the night and taken him.
But why would they take him and nae me?
It made no sense to her. So, where had Struan gone? He wouldn’t have left her there all alone.
“Struan?” she called again, not sure her voice carried much farther than the smoldering remains of the fire.
Movement to her left drew her attention and when the figure emerged from the fog like a malevolent wraith, Isolde nearly jumped out of her skin, a sharp squeak bursting from her mouth. Struan’s handsome face resolved, and he looked at her strangely.
“Where did ye go?” she almost shouted.
He held the wood in his arms up for her to see. “The bleedin’ fog is cold and wet. I thought ye might want tae thaw yer bones.”
Her heart began to slow, and she pressed a hand first to her chest then to her forehead as a wave of relief washed over her. He dropped the wood and got the fire going again.
“Ye didnae think I left ye in the night, did ye?” he asked.
“I didnae ken what tae think. I just woke up and ye were gone,” she said, her voice a bit shaky. “I was scared me faither’s men had taken ye.”
He laughed softly. “Yer faither’s men wouldnae have taken me easily. Even as deep as ye sleep, ye’d have woken up tae that.”
Her cheeks flushed and she lowered her gaze, shaking her head. She knew that. It made sense that she would have woken up to Struan battling her father’s men. But waking up and just seeing him gone had scared her. As if sensing her discomfort, he stepped forward and put a gentle hand on her arm. She raised her head and looked into his gray eyes, the earnestness within them making her draw a sharp breath.
“I’d nae just leave ye like that, Isolde.”
There was a hitch in his voice that seemed to match the emotion in his eyes. There seemed to be more behind his words than he was saying and a lump rose into her throat. It made Isolde wonder what she would feel if he stepped even closer.
What his lips would feel like brushing against hers…
His eyes widened slightly, and a strange expression touched his face. He looked as if he realized he’d said too much and took a step back, taking his hand off her arm, leaving Isolde to mourn the absence of its firmness and warmth. He cleared his throat and looked away.
“I mean, ye’re the only one here who kens where me braither is,” he said. “And I made ye a promise tae get ye tae safety.”
Isolde winced at the sound of his words. Whatever illusion of connection she hoped they had shared the previous night evaporated in an instant.
Daes he only protect me because he promised tae, till he reaches Finlay?
Isolde refused to believe that.
Struan turned away and put a little more wood on the fire, the tension in the air between them suddenly thicker than the fog that encased them.
Struan was a breathtaking man. And in the moments when he seemed untroubled, like yesterday, and his eyes fell on her, it filled Isolde with a warmth that began in her belly and quickly spread through her body.
It never failed to make her heart flutter like a hummingbird’s wings and her belly churn with a heat that although pleasant, felt so intense, it hovered on the edge of uncomfortable. No man had ever made her feel like that before with nothing more than a glance.
It was vain and superficial, she knew, but Isolde craved those looks from him. He made her feel the way she used to dream of her husband looking at her when she was young. He was not her husband, of course, and wouldn’t be. But the feelings he stirred in her were powerful and genuine, and Isolde wanted to let herself feel them, if only for a short while.
She had no idea what the future held or if she would ever find a man to love her the way she’d daydreamed of. The way Struan made her feel might be the closest she ever got to it, so she wanted to enjoy it a little longer. She knew it was an illicit game to play, but it would at least be a memory she could take with her. A feeling that would sustain her through the long, cold nights that undoubtedly lay ahead of her.
Isolde cleared her throat. “Well, I think we’re more likely tae get lost in this fog than we are tae find our way,” she said. “I think we should stay here and wait it out.”
“There’s nay tellin’ how long it’s goin’ tae last,” he said. “Could be an hour. Could be a day.”
“Then I suppose we’ll have tae find a way tae amuse ourselves until it lifts.”
Struan chuckled. “And what dae ye have in mind then, eh?”
