She couldn’t call out to Rory for fear of frightening the animalaway. His bow was close.
And if there was aught that Alana could do, it was shoot an arrow with exact precision, a skill she had kept to herself. Keeping her body still, and her eyes on the hare, she moved her hand slowly until her fingers closed around the bow, bringing it to her, then did the same as she plucked an arrow from the quiver.
The hare came further forth from the bushes cautiously, pausing every couple of seconds to assess its surroundings.
Moving quietly, she notched the arrow and closing her left eye, she focused her right eye on the target. Inhaling, she let the arrow loose, watching it connect with deadly precision.
Behind her Rory gasped in surprise.
“Impressive shot. Where did ye learn to shoot an arrow like that?”
Was that pride she heard in his voice?
She shrugged. “My brothers. They thought it could be a helpful skill to have if I ever found myself lost in the forest. Dinnae tell my mother or father. They would be mortified to learn of me doing such an unladylike thing.”
“Weel, my lips are sealed, and yer brothers were right. With aim like that, ye will for certs no’ go hungry.” He smiled at her. A genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made the green sparkle like emeralds.
She froze, caught off-guard by his compliment, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t aught that she expected to hear from him, and she didn’t want to admit how much it affected her.
Later, as they prepared the hare together for their meal, side by side, they were so close she could feel the heat emanating off his body.
A brush of his fingers against her skin, lingering a smidge too long to be considered decent. His lip caught betwixt his teeth as their eyes met.
Alana pulled away quickly, breaking the connection and Rory took a step back, shaking his head, as if awakening himself from a stupor.
What were they doing? If someone happened upon them, they would for certs think they were more than a woman and her guard.
Her skin still tingled where his fingers had touched her. She fought the urge to rub the spot, not wanting to draw attention to how much it affected her.
She had to remind herself that it was naught. That it couldn’t ever be aught. She was betrothed to another man. She had a duty to her family. She couldn’t forget that.
She needed to repeat it over and over.
Rory was not her future.
He couldn’t be.
Ever.
But when he gave her a bright smile. A smile that held promises she kenned that he had no right making, her heart stumbled.
They supped in silence, away from each other on opposites side of the fire they’d roasted the prepared hare over. Alana sat cross-legged on her blanket, pulling the tender meat from the bone with her fingers. They stole glances the whole time and averted their eyes as soon as they made contact.
She felt silly. It was like she was playing the childhood games that she’d played as a young girl. But she wasn’t a young girl any longer and Rory was definitely not a young boy.
And the game they were playing was most definitely not child’s play.
Nay. He was all man. Big and tall. Dark and brooding. Protective and sincere. True to his word.
She had witnessed that firsthand. Rory and no qualms telling her how much he despised having to put his plans on hold to escort her to her betrothed. He had reminded her oft enough. Yet, he also took pride in himself and the way he treated her. He got angry on her behalf at learning the details of her circumstances.
Aye, there were times when he was short and dare she say, rude.He had threatened to leave her behind, but even when she hadn’t kenned him well, she kenned he would do no such thing.
Alana sighed over a nibble of roasted meat.
Rory raised a brow in question but didn’t say a word.
But when they settled in for the night, still on either side of the fire, and his deep voice wished her a good sleep, his warm tone like a soft blanket, Alana’s heart skipped a beat and she couldn’t hide the smile that lifted her lips.
