Page 39 of Kilty Until Proven Innocent
Then he turned, expression blank. “And ye couldnae show me this place last week?”
Was he thinking—with regret?—of the day they’d spent working together? She raised her hands, palms up, as if to show she had no choice. “Can ye blame me?”
“Ye thought me guilty,” he growled. “Ye didnae trust me.”
“The King thought ye guilty,” she cried, then forced her voice into an even tone. “I was ordered to find proof of yer guilt. If yehadbeen guilty, then yer reaction to being told the incorrect site of the ambush would’ve been telling.”
“And ye showed me the bolt for the same reason. To watch my reaction.”
It wasn’t a question, but she nodded. “The way ye believed me, the way ye interviewed the guards and armorer so thoroughly, proved ye were innocent.”
Rage flickered in his eyes as he stepped toward her. “Ye could have taken my word!”
Brigit felt him slipping from her grasp. “Andyecould try to understand my position a bit better, Drum!” she cried, reaching for him, but halting her hands. “Have ye never had to follow an order ye hated? How do ye think that made me feel? To be ordered to investigatefor treasonthe man I lo—”
She bit down on the word, but Drum reared back as if she’d slapped him, and stared down at her, those dark eyes unreadable.
“The man ye what, Brigit?” he finally asked.
Blessed Virgin. She wasn’t going to announce her feelings for him, not now. Not when he was still so hurt by her actions.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, tucking her chin to her chest. “I truly am. I hated—nay, Ilovedworking with ye, but the reasons…”
They stood in silence in the empty corridor for a long moment. Then, releasing his breath on a sigh, Drum stepped toward her.
He was close enough she could press her palm to his chest. She could run her hands along his corded forearms. She could reach for his belt, tugging his pelvis against hers so she could tease him with her own heat.
Just his nearness, hisscent, was enough to make her breath quicken, her blood pump.
“Lass,” he murmured, and Brigit closed her eyes, wishing she might hear longing in his tone.
When Drum placed his fingers beneath her chin, she forgot how to breathe. She opened her eyes as he lifted her gaze to meet his and watched as he studied her. Gently.
“Lass, I loved working with ye too. I didnae think I could, and ‘twas what made yer betrayal hurt so much.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered yet again, wondering if he’d ever believe her.
He shifted forward until her hands were trapped between them, his kilt brushing against her skirts. Brigit swallowed, wondering at this rush of desire. Was it because of his nearness after a week apart? Or just because her emotions were roiling in her stomach?
Or was itDrummond?
“Ye brought me here,” he murmured, gaze dropping to her lips, “to show me the truth. Does that mean ye want to work together again?”
Her tongue darted across her lower lip as she tried to nod. But his hold on her chin halted the movement, so she whispered, “Aye. I can show ye the crossbow as well. I’ve investigated Matthias this past week, but I believe his initial story.”
Drum didn’t seem to care about the cocky guard who’d lost his weapon to the assassin. Instead, he lowered his face toward hers, still holding her steady. “Then, if we are sharing notes, I ought to tell ye I traced the poison the King almost drank that evening.”
Blinking, Brigit stared up at him, trying to force her mind to focus on his words instead of the riot of feelings—desire, worry, desire, hope, desire, desire, desire—churning in her.
“Wha…” She licked her lips. “What did ye find?”
Her pulse pounded in her core and she wondered what she would discover if she was to press her hips forward against his.
“The poison came from the court sorcerer.”
Focus, idiot! She forced herself tothinkabout his words. “Charles the Thirty-Seventh? He made poison to kill the King?”
Drum’s thumb was now stroking her jaw, and she doubted he knew what his touch was doing to her. “Nay, lass, he made a potion to createsmoke. ‘Twas what was diluted in the King’s wine.”
