Page 73 of Beloved Enemy
No, it was fear.
“I get it,” she continued, keeping her voice steady. “You don’t trust me. You think I’m working with the English, that I’m some sort of spy.” She paused, but when he didn’t respond, she pressed on. “But we both know that’s not the real reason you’re pushing me away—why you’re running away right now.”
Fully dressed, he stood unmoving, his jaw tight. “Ye dinna ken what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I think I do,” she said, sitting up straighter. “You’ve been hurt before, betrayed by someone you trusted. And I know that must’ve made it hard to let anyone get close again. It’s easier for you to pretend I’m guilty of something than to admit you might actually care about me.”
He scoffed at this, not with sound but only a darkening glower and the glint of steel that entered his hard gaze. “Ye mistake me for a much weaker man.”
Of course, a man like him would see it as such. “I think you are mistaking weakness,” she said softly. “You don’t really believe I’m a spy. You’re using it as an excuse to keep me at arm’s length because you’re afraid of getting hurt again. And I understand that more than you know. I’ve spent my whole life building walls because people I loved left me too. First my father, then my mother, and I promised myself I’d never let anyone get close enough to leave me again.” Her voice softened, her gaze unwavering. “But here we are. I’ve let my guard downwith you, Reid—in a century far removed from where I belong! I’ve let you in, and it terrifies me.” Lowering her voice, she added, “And it thrills me, too. I’m willing to take that risk. Are you?”
He stared at her, the silence heavy between them. She could see the conflict in his eyes, the battle he was fighting within himself.
And yet, he didn’t answer. Not in words, anyway.
She nodded, wounded further by his silence. “Between you and me,” she declared tightly, “only one of us is lying. And I would only advise that you tread carefully, Reid.” Growing more angry by the minute, she said curtly, “You’re going to find out I’m not guilty of any crime, but the glow of sex will have worn off by then, I’m sure. Good luck, Reid, trying to earn my forgiveness then.”
His jaw shifted left and right, as if he were grinding his teeth. Without a response, he strode toward the door and exited the chamber.
The metallic sound of the key turning in the lock was a harsh exclamation point to his cutting words and maddening silence, leaving Charlotte alone in the flickering light of the dying torch, her heart aching—not just for herself, but for the man she now realized was more broken than she’d ever imagined.
She wanted to hate him, but she could not. She wanted to explode in anger over his mulishness, but she did not.
Despite the breathtaking intensity of what they'd shared the night before—the sheergloryof it—Reid still doubted her. Or purposefully chose to cling to his suspicion. Even after the passion that had burned between them, igniting something raw and powerful, he pretended to be convinced that she was somehow involved with the criminals. The warmth of their lovemaking hadn't melted the wall of suspicion he’d built around himself, and she was left wondering if anything ever could. Now,despite their connection, she was still a prisoner in the tower at Kingswood.
For how long, she had no idea.
Would he visit her again? Would he sleep with her again?
Charlotte guessed that he would not, that he wouldn’t let himself show what he would imagine was weakness.
That was all she would ever have with him, she feared.
All at once, she felt used and abandoned.
And yet, a man did not touch so gently, or kiss with such tenderness, or make love so selflessly if he felt nothing. If Reid truly had no feelings for her, he wouldn’t have lingered afterward, falling asleep in her arms, holding her so close and protectively throughout the night. No. If he were as indifferent as he claimed, he would have left the moment their passion was spent, disappearing into the shadows hours ago.
Still, the ache in her heart was fierce. Even as she clung to that belief—knowing in her heart that his touch had betrayed the coldness of his words—she couldn't escape the hurt now tearing through her. How could he treat her like this, after what they’d shared? His tenderness had melted her defenses, only for him to rebuild his own walls before morning. The sting of his rejection, of his deliberate distance, cut deep, making her question everything. She wanted to trust the way he held her, the way he kissed her, but his harsh words had left her doubting her own heart, wondering if she was a fool for hoping.
Miserably, Charlotte tucked her face into the musty pillow and cried.
***
Leaving the tower, Reid felt the familiar tension, a constant battle between what he wanted and what he knew. He’d spent a night with Charlotte—magnificent, yes—but it left him raw,exposed in ways he couldn’t afford. From the start, he’d tried to keep her at arm’s length, but she was a force that pulled him in despite his best efforts. He hated it. She made him feel things he’d long buried, weakened him, and Reid Nicholson was not a weak man.
Trust was a fool's game—he’d learned that the hard way. Elspeth had taught him to be smarter than that, to protect himself. Charlotte was no different. She could easily be a spy, tied to the men plotting against him, the ones lying dead outside Kingswood. He couldn’t let himself believe in her innocence. No one was that innocent, not in his world.
As he descended the spiral staircase, the heat of the night still clung to him. He remembered how her body arched against his, inviting him deeper, her soft sighs echoing in his ears. The way she melted against him, eyes fluttering closed in pleasure, had stirred something deep inside him—a beautiful longing he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years.
She was a captivating contradiction—innocent yet undeniably seductive, a temptress who had lured him into vulnerability without even trying. But those moments felt like a distant dream now, overshadowed by the nagging fear that she might not be who she seemed. How could someone so enchanting also be a possible threat? That tantalizing thought gnawed at him, forcing him to push her away even as his heart yearned to pull her closer.
She’d asked him if he were willing to take a risk with her. For them.
No, he wasn’t, he assured himself. If not a spy, Charlotte was either mad or was possibly a witch from another century, none of which he wanted any part of.
They had no future.
Reid stepped outside into the crisp pre-dawn air, the cold biting at his skin as he walked through the quiet darkness. Hismind was a storm, but the loch called to him. He needed the shock of the water, the clarity that only the cold could provide. Reaching the shore, he stripped down, the chill of the morning sinking into his bones. The water would wash away last night, what had happened between him and Charlotte. She clung to him—her touch, her scent, her warmth—and Reid hated how much he wanted to hold onto it. He needed it gone.
