Page 26 of Undercover Shadow
We stayedin bed a couple more hours, talking and touching. He told me about his childhood at Glenshadow, about the cattle he raised, about his sister, who lived in Edinburgh, and his brother, who worked in Glasgow. I told him about growing up as a diplomat’s daughter, about learning languages by necessity, about how lost I’d been after Idris died until Unit 23 gave me purpose again.
“I was terrified that first day,” I admitted. “When you and Typhon came to the funeral, it was as though you were cataloging my weaknesses.”
“We were,” he admitted. “As you know, it’s what we do. Assess threats, capabilities, weaknesses.”
“I was so afraid I’d fail.”
“You didn’t. In fact, you were magnificent.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You still are.”
It was midafternoon when hunger finally drove us to the kitchen. Tag insisted on making a late lunch while I showered. The hot water stung in places that made me blush, remembering how they’d gotten so sensitive. When I emerged, dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of leggings I’d found in my bag, the heat in his eyes had desire pooling between my legs again.
We were halfwaythrough the meal when a knock came at the door.
“Who is it?” I asked when he stood to look.
“The MacLeods,” he responded, inviting them inside.
“The storm is breaking,” Mr. MacLeod announced as he set another food-laden basket on the counter. “Should clear by tomorrow, maybe the day after. Roads will be passable soon enough.”
Tomorrow. The word lodged in my throat. I’d been so lost in the bubble of last night and this morning that I’d forgotten about the world outside.
“That’s…good news,” Tag said, though the tone of his voice suggested otherwise.
After they left a few minutes later, I stood at the window as rain fell. It was definitely lighter outside, the sky less oppressively dark. As Mr. MacLeod had said, we’d be able to leave tomorrow or the next day. And then what?
“Hey.” Tag’s arms came around me from behind. “You’re frowning. Why?”
“I’m wondering what happens when we leave here.”
“We don’t have to think about that yet.” He pressed a kiss to my neck. “We still have time.”
“And then?”
He was quiet long enough for me to wonder if he’d answer. “Then we return to work. Resume finding out who was following you and why.”
“Right,” I said. “Of course.”
He turned me to face him. “Leila?—”
“It’s fine.” I managed a smile. “I understand. You made it clear that this would only last as long as we were here.”
“That’s not what I—” He stopped, frustrated. “It’s complicated.”
“It really isn’t.” I pulled away from him. “We should check the rest of the castle. Make sure the storm hasn’t done any damage.”
It appeared as though there was something more he wanted to say, but after waiting a few minutes, I went upstairs to put on warmer clothes.
We spentthe afternoon wandering through the tunnels again, though things between us seemed so different. Tag was affectionate and tender, but I’d withdrawn, building the walls I’d need once we left Dunravin. He noticed—I could see it in the way he studied me, the way he’d reach for me then stop himself—but neither of us addressed it directly.
As evening fell, he suggested we dine together. “Mrs. MacLeod brought dinner,” he said. “And there’s wine. We could?—”
“I’m not hungry. In fact, I need some air.” I stalked out the door, hoping he would follow as much as I hoped he wouldn’t.
I paced the castle grounds as the sun set, breathing in the rain-washed air. The landscape showed evidence of the storm’s violence—branches down, debris scattered—but Dunravin stood unmarked. It had weathered centuries of storms and would for several more, even in its somewhat dilapidated state.
When I returned, the kitchen had been transformed, with candles, the table set with the castle’s best china, and wine breathing in a crystal decanter I hadn’t known existed.
“What’s all this?” I asked, wishing I hadn’t sounded so unappreciative.
