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Hell would freeze over before the man was besotted with anyone, let alone her.
Taran chose that minute to make a sudden appearance. “Glen told me you have a visitor.” He used to come from the fields around this time.
The sight of him emptied everything in her head. He stood on the carpet tall, dishevelled from work, hard muscles, green stare on her. Seconds passed before either of them unfastened their attention from each other, closely observed by said visitor.
He turned to spot the widow on the other side. “Shannon.”
“Laird McDougal.” She stood to greet him.
Aileen followed. “Mrs Newton here seems to think she has a claim on you.” She imparted without preamble.
Taran and the widow exchanged a glance. “I did not say that.” The blonde protested.
“But implied it.” Aileen would not let her take the stage.
Her husband acquired an annoyed stance, crossing his thick arms over broad chest.
“Did you promise her anything?” She asked him. Better deal with the situation bluntly.
He frowned, impatient. “No. We had a… casual understanding.” Good thing he did not seek to deny it.
“Though you started expecting more, Mrs Newton.” His wife probed.
Taran focused on her, an admiring trait on his rugged face.
Shannon showed positive discomfort in her fidgeting hands and straying gaze. “One wonders.” Her voice came weak.
“Do you love him?” Lady McDougal was not certain she wanted to receive an answer. Whether she got it or not, the reality of it would not go away.
“Love?” The widow’s delicate brows pleated. “I mean, look at him.”
Taran’s green beacons alternated between both women.
“Lust, then.” Aileen got it right, for the woman blushed. Less bad, she concluded relieved. “And a will to occupy the highest ranks in the clan, I presume.” Correct again, as the pale blue eyes lowered.
Who would blame the blonde for lusting after the man? She, Aileen, had no right to cast the first stone, for sure!
“I— “ The blonde stammered. “I should not have come.”
Aileen would not disagree with the other woman there.
“Excuse me.” Mrs Newton blurted before she nearly scurried from the room, shutting the door.
The Laird and the lady formed a team, the blonde realised. They worked together, they stuck together, as a unit. No breach to use in her own favour.
When Aileen’s stare found Taran’s, his eyes trained on her with a rather perplexed expression in them. “You literally neutralized the situation.”
Her head swivelled to him, not happy in the least. “What did you expect? That I acted like a prudish virgin?”
At that, his gaze strolled over her, searing. “There is nothing prudish about you, no.” His tone lowered a notch and her colour heightened with his double entendre.
Ignoring the liquid flush arrowing to her middle, she crossed her arms and looked at him woodenly. “Will I have to manage any more of your women?” Her firm stance disguised her overturning insides.
“No.” His stare never wavered. “Shannon has been the only one in the months before you… arrived.” ‘Arrive’ being a totally inappropriate verb. “I cut off our arrangement the day you showed up in the fields.” He added.
The same she had almost cast out her accounts witnessing their intimacy. This she would not confess to a soul.
“Good.” She responded firmly and gyrated to strut to the entrance.
