Page 42 of Beloved Enemy
He clenched his fists, willing the fire in his blood to cool. He had no use for her, he reminded himself, not for her or any woman. Aye, they were sweet, soft, and their touch could melt the hardest of hearts, but they were also dangerous. They would stab a man in the heart given the smallest chance.
His thoughts warred within him. The way Charlotte had responded to him, the way her lips had parted with such honesty and willingness—it had nearly undone him. He wanted more, far more than just a kiss. He wanted to claim her, to make her his in a way that defied the very distrust that gnawed at him now. But he couldn’t afford to be reckless, not with her, not with any woman. Women could turn a man’s head, twist his thoughts until he forgot himself, forgot his duties, his responsibilities.
And yet, even as he reminded himself of the treachery women were capable of, the memory of her kiss pulled at him. Her vulnerability, her wide-eyed sincerity when she’d insisted there was no other man—why did he want so desperately to believe her? It angered him that he wanted to trust her, that some part of him, deep down, was willing to take that risk.
But no, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. It was better, safer, to distance himself now, to put space between them. Reid’s jaw tightened as he fought against the desire to pull her into his arms again, as she clearly wanted him to. He knew what was best, even if it went against the very instincts that drew him to her.
With a final, hard look at her, he turned away, forcing himself to ignore the ache that told him he was making a mistake.
“Let’s go,” he clipped. “I’ll take ye back to Una.”
“Reid,” she called out hesitantly.
“Leave it, Charlotte,” he muttered, walking toward his steed. “'Twas a mistake, one that I’ll nae repeat.”
The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, made all the worse by the way his mind and body still burned with the truth, the taste and feel of her kiss, knowing all too well that it felt anything but wrong.
Heaving a frustrated sigh, he collected the reins and turned, discovering that Charlotte hadn’t followed.
“Come,” he commanded tersely. “Una has been worried about ye.”
That was true, he supposed, but his own concern had been far greater today, when he’d been unable to find Charlotte.
Earlier today, Reid had intended to follow Charlotte at a discreet distance, wanting to understand what she was up to as she headed north along the loch. He hadn’t planned, however, to be delayed as long as he was. But there at the loch that morning, as Charlotte wandered further from him, one of the fishermen, James, had grumbled about water pooling in thebottom of the bìrlinn. It wasn’t a lot, but enough to suggest a leak—a hole or seam that needed repair. He’d wasted precious moments helping the men drag the small boat out of the water, losing sight of Charlotte in the process. By the time they located the crack, nearly thirty minutes had passed, and Charlotte had gained more of a lead on him.
Realizing he could make up ground faster on horseback, Reid had returned to Kingswood to fetch his steed, giving Charlotte even more of a head start. That had been late in the morning, and despite hours of searching, he’d found no trace of her. Eventually, he’d given up, assuming she must have returned to the village and Una’s house. When he’d approached Una mid-afternoon, finding her alone with her bairns in the darkened cottage, she’d been none too pleased.
“I have nae seen her since morn,” Una had told him, her voice tinged with mild irritation. “Nae since she said she needed to take care of something and would nae be around for a few hours.” She’d harrumphed then, either unaware of Charlotte’s matchmaking intentions or simply irritable because those “few hours” had stretched into most of the day.
Growing anxious as darkness fell, Reid had begun another search. He was mere minutes away from returning to the keep to rouse a full search party when he’d finally heard a response to his constant calling of her name.
Seeing her frightened face when he’d found her, the way she’d run to him and thrown herself into his arms, had affected him more than he wanted to admit. It irked him to realize how much her fear had moved him, how much her watery eyes had pierced him. Despite his best efforts to remain detached, he knew he was not immune to her.
As Charlotte approached stiffly now, Reid forced himself to believe that his anger and frustration stemmed solely from her reckless behavior and nothing more. He repeated to himselfthat the only reason he'd searched so tirelessly for her was because he suspected her of some dubious intent—perhaps even a connection to those English voices Angus claimed to have overheard.
When she finally reached him, he lifted her onto the destrier’s back and mounted behind her, his arm wrapping around her middle. Her rigid posture felt like a small victory; he’d successfully discouraged her from wanting another kiss, and perhaps, like him, she regretted the impulsive kiss they’d shared.
“I’m sorry you had to come out looking for me,” she said, her voice small as he steered the horse through the woods toward the loch. “But I am grateful that you did. Thank you.”
Which reminded him of her long absence.
“Jesu, Charlotte, but what were ye thinking? Why did ye stay gone for so long?”
“I didn’t mean to,” she said, her tone wooden, not enlivened at all with her defense. “I wanted to see Urquhart Castle for myself. I kept to the water’s edge so that I wouldn’t get lost, but then I got spooked by riders and hid and...well, obviously I went too far into the woods. I’m sorry to have caused you trouble.”
“'Tis done now,” he allowed after a moment.
He insisted to himself that he hadn't been worried about her, not even a little. It had all been about suspicion.
Still, Charlotte’s stunning kiss lingered as undeniable proof that he was lying to himself.
Chapter Twelve
Sleep, of course, eluded Charlotte.
How could she possibly rest with the lingering heat of Reid’s kiss still simmering on her lips? A kisshehad initiated, no less! The sensation was impossible to shake—the press of his mouth, the unexpected urgency in his touch, the way it had ignited something deep and wild within her. Hell, the very fact that he’d wanted to kiss her shattered her composure, leaving her wide awake in the quiet darkness of Una’s cottage, her heart thrumming with a restless energy.
She’d whispered a very sincere apology to Una upon her return. Having crept into the cottage as quietly as she could, she still had found Una sitting up in bed, aware of her return. The children remained asleep all around their mother.
