Page 23 of Highlander's Lady of the Lake

“I lied,” Chrisdean said, much to Nimue’s chagrin. “Or, weel . . . at least it takes me a longer time to face them than it took ye. Ye’re verra brave, lass.”

Nimue couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes at Chrisdean, though she couldn’t trick herself into being upset with him. Everything he had told her had only helped her take the first step towards facing her fear, and she was grateful for that.

It was then that Nimue noticed just how close the two of them were standing, so close that if she leaned forward just a little, she could press her lips against his. The thought obscured everything else in her mind, and her gaze was pinned to Chrisdean’s mouth as they stood there in silence.

Chrisdean didn’t speak, but Nimue could hear his breathing, hard and rushed, and when she looked into his eyes, she found the same hunger that she felt for him there. She silently cursed herself for being so attracted to him, thinking that if she scolded herself enough, those silly feelings would stop, but no matter what Nimue did, she couldn’t stop herself from wishing that Chrisdean would move just a little closer and kiss her.

He seemed to be thinking about the very same thing, after all, if his flushed cheeks and his sinfully parted lips were any indication. Nimue just needed to find the courage to push into him, to kiss him and feel his body under her hands, to ask him to make her his right then and there.

But she couldn’t possibly do that. She didn’t have the boldness for it, and she didn’t think she ever would. Women like her were raised to not think about such things, let alone act on such impulses.

But then she saw Chrisdean move closer, his lips hovering right above her own, and she closed her eyes, her body burning with desire. She tilted her head back, hands already reaching for him, eager to explore every inch of his muscular body, that sensitive place between her legs pulsing with desire.

“Me Laird!” came a voice from behind her, and Nimue jumped away from Chrisdean, her face burning with shame. The man, one of the messengers, came to a halt in front of Chrisdean, who was just as red as she was, clearly embarrassed by his own actions. And yet, the messenger didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care. “I have a letter for ye. Ye may wish to read it right noo.”

The spell that had captured Nimue in its grip dissipated in a moment and was instantly replaced by shame, a deep, ugly shame that had her wishing she had never even met the man. All it had taken was some kindness and some of his charm, and she would have let him take her to bed and do unspeakable things to her.

What’s wrong with me? How can I let him affect me like that after he rejected me so blatantly?

When she looked at Chrisdean, though, it seemed as though he had forgotten all about the electricity between them only moments earlier. His face was pale, the color drained from his skin, and he was gripping the letter in a tight fist.

“Chrisdean?” Nimue asked, her gaze falling to the letter that the messenger had handed to him. Chrisdean didn’t speak, though, as he read the letter again and again.

“Go back to the castle, lass,” he said, and then turned around and left without another word, leaving Nimue behind.

What could be in that letter? Could it be from me faither?

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