“No mystery there. He’s a fair one to be sure. Strong and handsome as any.”
“I’ve been around many handsome men in my life, but none of them...” Nora couldn’t bring herself to say it.
Catarina arched a brow. “None of them what?”
“Nothing,” she said hurriedly. “I am being foolish.” Nora excused herself to go sleep on her makeshift pallet that Ewan had made for her by the fire.
The ground was cold and uncomfortable, but she did her best not to notice that while her mind replayed everything that had happened between her and Ewan since the moment they met.
Catarina went to bed and Nora listened as the three men snored rather loudly.
For hours, she watched the stars cross the sky all the while Ewan didn’t return.
Ewan lost track of time while he lay in a small clearing, staring up at the sky. He should go back to camp, but he held no desire to be there where he would be forced to stare at something he couldn’t have.
Still, he could taste Nora. Her scent permeated his head and left him craving her like a starving beggar.
All he’d ever wanted in his life was to find a woman who could look at him as women looked at his brothers. Not to have a woman glance at him, then watch as her gaze slid over to one of the others and stayed there.
That was half of why he’d been so taken in by Isobail’s lies. He’d thought that maybe, just once, he wouldn’t have to compete for someone’s affections. That a woman could love him and not lust for his brothers instead.
And it had been a lie.
No doubt Nora would be the same. She’d see Lochlan and fall all over herself to gain his notice. What woman wouldn’t? His brother was tall, but unlike him, not freakishly so. And Lochlan held the golden fair looks that made most maids swoon.
Best of all, Lochlan was laird.
Ewan sighed. What did he have to offer a woman?
Nothing.
He had money of his own from lands his father had left him, but they were nowhere near the riches of his brothers’ holdings. It was more than enough to keep him and a wife quite comfortable, but he wouldn’t be able to be lavish with her.
And yet as he lay there, he knew it would never be enough to interest a woman. Especially not a woman like Nora. She was refined and graceful. A true gentlewoman.
She probably belonged to a wealthy lord who had spoiled her immensely. Her clothes and mare were the finest he’d ever seen and ‘twas obvious she had been well schooled.
She was refined. Delicate. Graceful.
Wonderful.
Such women were beyond his reach. They belonged to men like Lochlan who were refined in grace, form and tongue. Not to a man who was so tall he had to bend almost double just to enter a room.
“Ewan?”
He jumped in startled alarm at Nora’s voice coming out of the darkness.
“What are you doing here?” he said, his voice gruff.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
He sat up as she neared him. She wore only a thin shift and held a plaid wrapped around her shoulders. She’d braided her blond hair and it fell over one shoulder, all the way down to her hips. She was a vision in the bright moonlight.
One that stole his breath.
“You should have stayed in the camp, Nora. ‘Tis dangerous for you to be out in the woods alone.”
“I knew you were out here.”
