Page 8 of Kilty By Association
His bright eyes slowly resolved before hers, relief in them.
“Aye, that’s it. Breathe, lass.” After his command, he took a deep breath, and she found herself mimicking, exhaling when he did. “Good, again.”
She felt calmer, thank the saints, her bones loose, her emotions a jumble. Her chest was tight from her panic, but there was a wetness between her thighs she hadn’t expected to experience with a man…
“I’m sorry, Elspeth.” There was sorrow in his expression, and he held her close to him. “I should no’ have kissed ye. I should no’ have forced…”
“Nay,” she managed, then took another deep breath, held it, and admitted, “I liked it. At first. I liked it verra much.”
“I…” His lips curled up on one side, ruefully. “I liked it too.”
“Too much,” she whispered.
And he seemed to understand.
There was no future for them.
“Aye,” he breathed, moving his hand so he could brush her hair aside once more. His touch was gentle, as if he were taking care of her.
She liked it—liked his touch, likedhim—more than she should.
Craig cleared his throat and twisted to study the room. “They’re gone, and I doubt Bertold’s coming tonight, if the guards are patrolling. Come on.” With no effort, he slid her off his lap, holding her upright while her knees adjusted. “I’ll take ye home.”
She was glad to hold onto his arm when he offered it. As a gentleman would.
“Home?”
His grin was lopsided as he peered down at her. “I’ll no’ allow a lass—lady or nay—to come to harm under my watch.” He glanced around the tavern once. “Although I’ve nae notion what being seen with ye will do to my reputation,” he finished in a low voice.
And she found she was able to tease him again. “You mean, what Barthold will do when he finds out?”
Craig met her gaze, and after a moment, smiled ruefully. “Aye. Come, let’s get ye back to yer son.”
Robbie.
Aye, the reason she was doing this.
She needed to remember.
Chapter 2
“Ye’re late.”
Drummond Kennedy snapped out the reprimand without looking up from his desk, and Craig frowned as he closed the door behind him.
“Nay, I’m no’.” He lowered himself gently into the chair across from his leader, always mindful at how much heavier he was than other men, and knowing he’d broken his share of benches and stools over the years. “I’m right on time.”
“Aye, but everything else was early, and ye missed it.” Drum finished affixing the seal of the King’s Hunters to the scroll he was reading then looked up. “Truthfully, I didnae expect ye to check in at all today.”
Craig heard the unspoken words:I expected ye to be with Barthold’s band by now. He winced.
“I’m sorry, Drum. Barthold never came to the tavern last night. Or the night afore that.”
“I ken.”
His leader’s words were enough to startle Craig into sitting upright. “What? What do ye mean, ye ken?”
Drum waved the document he was now re-rolling. “Barthold the Bald obliged the world by turning up dead. He cheated the hangman, but I suppose I should be grateful he willnae be a problem any longer.”
