Days had passed, and still Connor had not spoken to her proper since the village, his silence pressing heavier than any harsh word. She squared her shoulders and strode for the door, resolve burning hotter than fear.
The corridors felt longer than usual as she searched for him.
“Connor?” she said as she knocked on the door to his study. There was no reply. She pushed open the door to find it empty. Her temper flared anew.
A passing maid nearly stumbled as Eva stopped her.
“Have ye seen the Laird?” Eva asked.
“Aye, miss,” the maid replied, wide-eyed, “I saw him last in the library.”
“Show me,” she said, her tone brooking no delay, and the maid hurried ahead with nervous speed.
The maid led her into the library and announced, "Miss Eva, me laird," and fled as if chased, leaving Eva alone with him and her pounding heart. The library smelled of old leather and dust, shafts of light falling across shelves heavy with history. Connor stood at a table, dark head bent over ledgers, his broad shoulders tense even in stillness.
He did not look up until she spoke.
“We need to talk,” Eva said, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.
Connor closed the book slow and careful, as if each motion were measured.
“Aye?” he asked, brows lifting. “About what, then?”
“About why ye’ve been so cold,” she shot back, stepping closer. “About why ye touch me sweet in the village, then turn to stone once we were headed back.”
Connor’s jaw tightened, his gaze sharpening. “Ye’re readin’ ghosts where there are none,” he said flatly.
“Nay, I’m nae daft,” Eva snapped, heat rising to her cheeks. “Ye were kind so ye could get between me legs at the inn, and once ye had it, that was the end of it.”
The words hung heavy between them, bold and unforgiving. Connor straightened fully then, his presence filling the room like thunder.
“That’s a cruel thing to say, lass,” he growled. “And untrue.”
Eva laughed without humor, folding her arms tight as if to hold herself together.
“Then explain it to me,” she challenged, “for I’ve been left alone to guess, and I’m done with that.”
Connor dragged a hand through his hair.
“I’ve duties that weigh heavier than ye ken,” he said, voice low. “Matters of clan and land daenae pause for tender moments.”
Eva shook her head, eyes bright with hurt. “Ye could’ve said as much,” she replied, “instead of makin’ me feel cast aside.”
He stopped before her, close enough that she could feel the heat of him.
“I dinnae mean to make ye feel small,” he said roughly. “But ye daenae get to accuse me of usin’ ye like some common thing.”
Eva lifted her chin, refusing to yield. “Then daenae treat me like one,” she shot back.
Silence crackled, thick with words unspoken and feeling unspent.
Connor studied her. “Ye’ve fire, Eva,” he said quietly. “More than most.”
She swallowed, her anger tangled now with something dangerously close to longing.
“I willnae be ignored,” she said, softer but no less firm.
Connor’s mouth twitched. “Ye test me sorely,” he murmured, stepping back just enough to breathe.
