Hamish chuckled.“As repulsive as a loch choked with weeds.I would rather bed the devil himself.”
Ailith watched, unable to look away, as the woman straddled Hamish, her skirts hiking up.Their kiss deepened.
Unable to hide her gasp, she stumbled back.
As if sensing an audience, Hamish’s eyes suddenly snapped towards the door.
It was then that she felt it—a hand over her mouth.A jolt of fear shot through her as she was pulled back from the crack in the door, her eyes wide and darting to the owner of the hand.
A man’s dark eyes met hers, intense and unyielding.Ailith could glimpse a few of his features, even in the darkness of the corridor.He was tall, his presence commanding, with a quiet strength that was somehow reassuring even in her fright.This was no servant—the cut of his clothes and the firm set of his jaw spoke of a man of high rank.
He didn’t speak, but his message was clear as he placed a finger over his lips.With a gentle but firm grip, he guided her away from the study, into the deeper shadows of the hall.
Ailith’s mind raced.She knew that he could just as well be dangerous.But for some reason, she let herself be dragged away by the mysterious man.
Questions went by in a flash, but one remained.
What have I gotten meself into?
CHAPTERTWO
The stranger guided her through the corridors of MacCullach Castle, not saying a word.The sounds of the feast dimmed behind them as they took a winding route.
She watched him tower over her.He was tall and muscled, his sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned, freckled skin.Even though she could only see the back of him, she took in his dark hair and the slope of his shoulders.
As attractive as he was though, Ailith’s mind was full of questions.None of which she could voice now.
“Thank ye for saving me,” she said.
No response.
“I’m sorry, but me faither will be looking for me,” Ailith whispered urgently, her voice barely carrying through the stone corridor.If he was indeed dangerous, perhaps he’d be discouraged by this.“We must return.I need to be at the feast.”
The man said nothing.His grip was unyielding yet not harsh, pulling her forward with an insistence that brooked no argument.
“Please, ye havenae uttered a word,” she pressed, her voice rising with a mix of fear and anger.“Why will ye nae answer?What is yer intention by taking me from the hall?”
His steps never faltered.They turned a corner, and a draft whispered against her skin.The scent of the salt and brine calmed her.
Maybe it didn’t work.
“Ye’re infuriating!”she exclaimed, her voice little more than a hiss.“I demand that ye speak.Why lead me into the darkness?Is this because of what I saw between Laird MacCullach and that lass?”
Still, he offered no reply, except a finger to his lips.“Quiet, lass,” he grumbled, his voice deep.Ailith shivered instantly.
They finally stopped before a heavy ornate door.With a push, he opened the door to the bedchambers.
“Why here?”Ailith’s voice was breaking.
The stranger stepped aside.With a gentle yet firm touch, he ushered her through the door and into a room cloaked in shadows.He finally released her, and she felt the absence of his touch.Strange that she was suddenly so cold.
“Will ye nae tell me yer name, at least?”Ailith muttered.
He remained in the doorway, his expression unreadable.“Me name isnae important.”
Ailith stood in the middle of the bedchamber, her hands on her hips.She wanted to leave, but leaving meant the possibility of being caught.There was no way out of this.
The man’s identity was a mystery.He could be saving her from the Laird, or he could be an even bigger threat.As she pondered her next move, she knew one thing for certain—the night’s events had changed everything.
