Today would be warmer, he could tell, which meant Sander might come fetch her. If Lyon were honest with himself, he knew he could’ve arranged to send her away at any time since the snow had ended. He or Keith could’ve walked to the village and fetched a sleigh for her, or asked Mrs. Oliphant for her help, or any number of solutions.
But he hadn’t. Because, despite knowing he deserved his reclusive life, helikedhaving Bonnie around.
He likedher. He liked her teasing, her wit, her intellect.
When he’d first seen her at the masquerade ball last summer, he’d watched her. Her beauty was a different kind than her sister’s, but Lyon’s eyes had been drawn by more than her beauty. She seemed like someone determined to have fun, determined to do what wasright,no matter what society said she should do.
And now he’d gotten to know her and understood shedidbuck acceptable behavior in order to achieve her dreams—including spending multiple days nearly alone with a strange beast of a man—he knew his initial assessment was correct.
And aye, he liked her.
Even though he knew he didn’t deserve to.
I want you to kiss me, Lyon.
When she’d said those words, his first reaction had been disbelief that someone as innocent and kind as she was could want to touch him. But shehadtouched him, and not just last night, but from the very beginning.
And when she’d touched his scarred face, he swore he couldfeelher fingertips, despite knowing that area of skin was long dead.
I want you to kiss me, Lyon.
Groaning, he dunked his head back under the freezing water of the loch, but even that didn’t help.
Kiss her?
He’d been thinking of little else since she’d sailed into his life, damn him.
And despite knowing they had no future together, the reasons fornotkissing her were quickly diminishing.
If she wants it, who are ye to deny her? Deny yerself?
Last night, she’d won their game of chess—of course she had. He was long out of practice, with only Keith, who wasn’t very good, to play against regularly—and could’ve demanded anything. She might’ve demanded to be returned to Lysander’s care. She might’ve demanded access to the library and Rose’s paintings.
Instead, she’d demanded a kiss, and she’d left the timing of that kiss up to him. Lyon glanced up at the castle. Would she be awake by now? How awkward would it be if he burst into her room dripping wet and claimed her lips?
Fairly awkward, all things considered.
But…
But therewassomething he could do for her. Not just a kiss, but something he could give her to show her she was worth far more. Throughout the trudge back to the castle, and the time he spent sparking the fire in his room to life, Lyon considered it.
Once the flames were crackling merrily, he planted his hands against the mantel and leaned forward so his long hair draped around his face. He was still nude, but he’d learned long ago this was the fastest way to dry off and warm up.
By the time he had to turn around—or risk toasting his bollocks—he knew what he had to do.
Rose was gone. Her art was still here, but what good did it do if no one was allowed to appreciate it? Even he kept away from the library, locking the door so no one else could enjoy her creations.
And that was as bad as forgetting Rose herself, wasn’t it?
Bonnie would appreciate it, so he would share it with her.
His mind made up, Lyon grabbed a kilt and went to find his houseguest.
She was in his study, but not at the little folding table Keith had set up for her. Lyon remembered how resentful he’d been that she could just sweep into his space and carve out a section for herself. But now, he knew when she was gone, he was going to miss glancing up and seeing her there.
When she heard him at the door, she turned from where she’d been staring out the window and offered him a shy smile. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” he replied, knowing his tone was gruff.
