“Here?”
“Aye.”
“With ye?”
“Nae. Alone. I will visit.”
“Ye want to leave me here alone, surrounded by hills and mountains?”
Finally, he straightened and looked at her. “Aye.”
Her nostrils flared a wee bit. “Nae. I willna stay here alone. I will escape. I am in good condition. I can climb my way out.”
“Why would ye do that and go somewhere unsafe?”
She looked as if there were things she wanted to say but didn’t.
“Ye will be safe here,” he told her.
“What do ye care about my safety?” she asked, sounding earnest to match her wide eyes.
“I am no’ a monster, Miss Woodburn. Though we are enemies, I dinna want to see ye mistreated or unsafe. But I willna stay here with ye. ’Tis unwise fer us to be spendin’ so much time together.”
She scoffed and drew out a little laugh that made his belly flip. “I assure ye, Mr. Cameron, I could spend every day with ye fer the remainder of my life and never feel anything fer ye.”
“Aye, but I dinna know if I would be so unaffected.”
She stared at him without saying a word. Indeed, he wasn’t certain she was even breathing. She did not ask him what he meant or why he would say such a thing. He was glad. He would have had no answers if she asked. Aye, she affected him. He hated himself for it but there it was. The truth. He could not help but look at her with every other breath he took. He found the not so subtle nuances of her facial expressions distracting and beguiling. She was easy to read whether she was sad or angry, surprised or curious. And those glimpses of authentic concern for him, though they were few, made him feel lightheaded and weak.
Not only weak in physical strength, but weak in conviction, and resistance. The best thing he could do for his own sake, was to be away from her.
If she hated him as much as she claimed to, she would be glad to be away from him.
“I will leave after we eat,” he informed her, knowing this was the best thing to do.
Her eyes widened and her lips parted.
Involuntarily, his gaze dipped to her mouth. He watched as she formed words. “Mr. Cameron.”
Her voice stole like the song of a nightingale across his ears.
“Are ye afraid of me?”
His eyes lifted to hers. She was not smiling, but serious. He thought he probably should not laugh at such a preposterous notion.
“What do ye think I am, lass?” he asked, beginning to feel insulted.Do ye think I dinna know yer schemes?He did not say it. It was enough that he knew. “Do ye think I am already weak fer ye?”
Her expression changed for an instant into one he had not seen before. Interest. She stared at him as if she was searching for something well hidden.
But all too quickly, her delicate brow creased lower over her blue eyes, darkening them with her usual anger and hatred. “Dinna be.”
He smiled when he had the urge to scowl. “Fear no’. I will make sure it doesna happen.”
He gathered his things and started back for the house. She followed. He wanted to look behind him. Was she there with a knife ready to stab him in the back? Was she picking poisonous plants and herbs to add to his supper?
Finally, he looked over his shoulder at her. When he caught her eye, he motioned with his chin for her to step up. And then he saw it. A tear breaking free to roll down her cheek.
He stopped and turned to fully face her. “Are ye cryin’, lass?” Damnation, was she going to weep when he left?
