Page 38 of The Ruthless Highlander's Hellion
Alan stepped back. “I said me piece. What ye do with it is yers to bear.” He moved toward the door, pausing just a moment. “I only ask ye think on it… before steel finds our gates.”
With that, the old man left, closing the door softly behind him.
Nicholas stood still, staring at the flames until the ache in his jaw eased. His pulse still beat too fast, blood hot with anger—but Alan’s words echoed all the same. He knew the man was right.
He was playing a dangerous game. Keeping Alexandra here, letting his feelings tangle with duty—none of it could end clean. Not when Leo Rankin was known for his wrath, and certainly not when the clans already danced close to the edge of war.
Nicholas let out a long breath and leaned both hands on the edge of the mantel.
He was the laird. He was meant to lead with strength, not let a woman turn his mind to ash. And yet… her face burned behind his eyes, soft and fierce all at once.
He closed his eyes.
War or nae, I cannae let her go..
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The following day, the garden was quiet, save for the breeze rustling through the ivy and the soft crunch of Alexandra’s slippers against the path. She moved without thought, her fingers grazing the edges of the lavender bushes, her mind far from the castle walls.
Guilt twisted inside her, sharp and unwelcome. She should have hated Nicholas—should have clung to her anger—but her heart had started to betray her.
The memory of his lips still lingered, heat curling in her belly even as she tried to push it away. She wasn’t meant to feel anything for him—not tenderness, not longing. And yet, when she thought of Leo Rankin’s cold eyes and cruel grip, her chest tightened with dread. Her duty to her clan had never felt so heavy.
"Me lady!" a voice called from behind, cutting through her thoughts.
Alexandra turned as Erica came hurrying down the path, cheeks flushed, skirts gathered in her hands. "There ye are. I've been lookin’ all over.”
“I needed some air,” Alexandra said quietly, lowering her gaze. “Me mind’s been... like a heavy fog.”
Erica stepped closer, peering at her. “Foggy, is it? What’s wrong, then? Ye look like ye’ve seen a ghost.”
Alexandra let out a breath, unsure whether to speak the words aloud. But the weight in her chest begged release. “I’m havin’ doubts... about marryin’ Leo Rankin.”
Erica’s brows shot up. “Well, thank the saints! I’ve been hopin’ ye’d say that for days now.”
Alexandra blinked, taken aback. “Erica, ye ken why I must though?”
“Och, aye,” Erica said with a firm nod. “But he’s a brute, and he’s nae a fit match for ye. I daenae care what threats he’s made—there must be another way.”
“I’m scared,” Alexandra admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “If I go back on the agreement, he’ll take it out on me brother. He said as much, and I believe him.”
Erica crossed her arms, determined. “Then we go home. Back to Sinclair Castle. Yer brother’s nay weaklin’, and neither are ye.”
“I want to,” Alexandra said softly. “More than anythin’. But I daenae ken if it’s fear keepin’ me or... somethin’ else.”
Erica’s eyes narrowed. “Somethin’ else? What sort of somethin’, hmm?”
Alexandra looked away, heat crawling up her neck. “It’s nothin’. Forget I said anythin’.”
The maid stepped closer with a sly grin. “Does this... ‘nothin’ happen to look like a broody Highland laird with a temper and a face that makes ye daft?”
Alexandra gave a sharp huff of breath. “Ye’re impossible.”
“So it is him, then?” Erica said, eyes gleaming.
There was no use pretending now, not with her cheeks burning and her silence giving her away. Alexandra looked down at her hands. “I’ve started... feelin’ things I shouldnae feel. It’s dangerous, Erica.”
Erica softened, her grin fading into concern. “Dangerous, aye—but nae wrong. He’s nae Leo Rankin at the very least.”
