Page 6 of Claimed by the Clan Chief

“I apologize, I just wanted me some air.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “It’s hot enough to boil a ham in there.”

“Shall I dampen the fires?” She stooped and set the jug next to the bowl then stood and gathered her skirts as if preparing to rush away.

“Och, nay, lass, stay where you are. That won’t be necessary. My men are enjoying the warmth, and the food and ale.” He paused and stared at the crown of her head, wondering why she wouldn’t look up at him. “I’m sorry for what happened earlier, with my man Broc.”

“It doesn’t need speaking of again.”

“If that’s what you wish.” He stepped closer. “But I want you to ken that you have nothing to fear from my men.”

“I understand.”

“Don’t you believe me?” He rested his hand on her small shoulder.

She gasped and stepped back, finally she looked up at him, but only for a second then she turned her head to the right.

“What is it?” he asked. “What have I done?”

She didn’t answer.

“I came to your rescue, did I not?”

“Aye. And I’m grateful.” She rested her hand over her eyes. “Really I am.”

“So why can’t you look at me?” He glanced down at himself. Was he not decently covered? Was he grotesque?

“I can.” She turned her back on him.

“It’s plain you can’t.” He was bewildered. “Does my face offend you? Am I the ugliest man in that room… the ugliest Highlander you’ve ever seen?”

“Of course not.”

“So turn and look at me.” He was getting irritated now. Not understanding something did that to him.

She made no move to turn.

“Isla.” He stepped close, so his chest was almost touching her shoulders. He could sense her body heat, and admired the way the moonlight kissed her hair making it shimmer like the deepest loch.

“I can’t look at you,” she whispered.

“Why not?” He breathed in her scent; it was soapy and fresh and held a hint of the sweet treats that had come from the kitchen.

“You must ken already,” she said.

“If I did I wouldn’t be so confused by you, lass.”

She remained quiet.

“I’d advise you to tell me what is going on, otherwise I might have to go and tell the laird one of his staff is not obliging my wishes, and he told me I’d want for nothing as his guest.” He lowered his voice. “Or I may have to tip you over my knee and spank the information from you.”

“No, please, don’t do that.” She spun around. Her eyes were closed. “Neither of those things.”

“Isla.” He cupped her chin in the palm of his hand. Her skin was so soft against his rough flesh. “Is it because I have a price on my head? Or that I’m a Jacobite?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“So… open… your… eyes.”

Finally she did, her long lashes fluttering as she set her attention on his lips.

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