Page 59 of Edinburgh Escape
“But you didn’t,” Maggie said softly. “I’m fine.”
His lip curled up on one corner. “And that’s why you’re wearing a turtleneck? Because you’re fine?”
“I’m wearing it because it’s drafty in the manor.” She pulled the neckline of her sweater downward. “See? No marks. I’m okay.”
He stared into her eyes, his shadowed with his own internal torture. “I can’t trust myself. You shouldn’t trust me. I was trained to kill. My hands worked on muscle memory.”
“When you’re awake, you know what you’re doing. You don’t have to distance yourself from me.”
“We could never sleep together. Ever.”
“I know now not to wake you from a nightmare.”
He gripped her arms gently. “What do you want from me?”
“I want what we had before. The easy companionship, being able to talk to you like a friend.” She lowered her voice. “Making love with abandon.”
Callum’s hands tightened, and then he released her, his face turning stony. “You’re going back to Montana. I’m here until you leave. Nothing will come of anything between us. We might as well end it now. I’m your protector, your bodyguard. Nothing more.”
“But there’s so much more,” she insisted.
“No. There isn’t,” he said, his tone harsh, final. “Let it go. Let me go. You’re better off without me.” He spun on his heels and walked down the hall, across the marble foyer and out the front door.
Maggie stood still for a long moment, moisture welling in her eyes.
What did she want from Callum? A playmate for the time she was in Scotland? When she returned to Montana, would she be able to forget about him? Could she go back to teaching preschoolers without a second thought about the man who’d rocked her world and made her want more out of life than teaching other people’s children?
No. Oh, hell no.
So, he had PTSD. Other women stayed with their men even when they suffered through the demons of their memories and the atrocities they’d witnessed. They worked through or around the nightmares.
Only Callum wasn’t her man. She hadn’t known him long. He might not have felt the same connection she had while making love all night long. His connection might have been no more than a physical release.
To Maggie, it had been a physical release and an emotional bonding. She could fall in love with Callum. Hell, she might already be in love with him. He was kind, caring, opened doors for her and protected her from street vendors and Russian mobsters. Their tour through London had been magical, thanks to his historical knowledge, humor and love of his country. He’d been patient and concerned with Bryce and quick to call for backup when he’d realized how much danger they could be in.
And he’d made love to her, insisting it wasn’t just sex.
Her heart burned with the memory. Now he wanted nothing to do with her.
Her eyes filled and overflowed. Not wanting anyone to witness her weakness, she ran. Not knowing where else to go, she hurried up the staircase and down the hallway to her room and rushed inside. Once she’d closed the door behind her, she leaned her back against it and slid to the ground, releasing the tears in messy sobs. Afraid someone might hear her, she covered her mouth, pushed to her feet and fell across the bed she’d shared with Callum the night before.
She buried her face in the pillow that still smelled vaguely like his cologne.
When the tears stopped flowing, she moved to her side of the bed. This was how it would be back in Montana. She’d sleep alone. There wouldn’t be the scent of cologne lingering on the other pillow. More tears welled in her eyes.
Maggie rolled onto her belly and buried her face in her pillow to muffle her sobs. Her fingers brushed against something hard. When she’d made the bed that morning, there hadn’t been anything under the pillow.
She sat up, tossed the pillow aside and stared down at a leatherbound book with a silk ribbon tied around it in a bow.
Her fingers curled around the item. She untied the bow and opened the cover.
The first page had Lady E written in large, scrolling handwriting across the page.
It wasn’t a book. This was a journal.
Maggie’s heartbeat kicked into overdrive as she turned the pages one by one.
Lady E, or Lady Elizabeth Wallace Drummond, had filled her journal with major events, beginning with her marriage to Lord Douglas Drummond, a union arranged by her father after Douglas Drummond’s father had passed away, leaving his oldest son all his wealth and title. She went on to commemorate the day she’d given birth to the future Lord Drummond and how it had made her marriage to Douglas tolerable despite her suspicions that her husband was having affairs with other women. She’d suspected he’d dallied with some of their female employees, but she had no proof and preferred he grace their beds now that she had produced an heir.
