Page 46 of The Laird's Secret Bairn

“Then how am I supposed to keep her safe if I daenae ken what I’m keeping her safe from?” Skye’s voice rose to match his. “What are ye hiding from me?”

It would be easy to turn and send her away. To refuse to tell her anything.

He should. Dougal should send her back to Castle Muir and forget that any of this had ever happened. It was the safe thing to do. He told himself it was for Lily, but in truth, part of it was for himself.

“Her maither was me betrothed. Elsie.” The name came out rough, as if it cost him something to say it. “She didnae die in a fire, whatever the Highlands believe. She died birthing Lily, at the hands of the man who thought the bairn wasnae his own. I’ve spent seven years keeping that truth buried so it wouldnae follow Lily and ruin what little peace she has.”

Skye went very still. “Dougal.”

“Now ye ken.” His voice had gone hoarse. “Now ye understand why I cannae have her seen, cannae have questions asked, cannae have ye taking her wandering off without a word to me first.”

“I understand ye’re frightened.” Her own voice softened, though the stubbornness never left it entirely. “But that doesnae make it right to cage her.”

“It isnae yer place to decide what’s right for her.”

“Then whose place is it? Yers? Ye, who barely let her breathe without permission, who’d sooner keep her locked behind stone than let her scrape a knee?”

Dougal crossed the distance between them in two strides, close enough that she had to tip her head back to hold his gaze, close enough that she could feel the heat rolling off him, could see the muscle working in his jaw.

“Ye disobeyed me.”

Skye held his gaze and didn’t look away. As frustrated as it made him, he respected it. She wasn’t backing away from his anger and was, instead, confronting it head-on.

“Aye, I did.”

“That’s a punishable offense, lass, and ye ken it.”

“Then punish me.” The words dared him the way she always seemed to dare him, even when sense screamed at her to back down. “Go on, then. Tell me what ye intend to do about it.”

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze dropped, just briefly, to her mouth, and she felt it like a physical touch, her breath catching in her throat.

“Careful,” he murmured.

She was testing his patience, more than she even realized. Or she realized every second of it and didn’t care.

“I’m always careful.”

“Ye’re the least careful woman I’ve ever met.”

He hadn’t moved, and neither had she, but the distance between them had shrunk to almost nothing. He was close enough that she could feel the warmth of him.

His hand came up, not quite touching her face, but hovering close enough that she felt the ghost of it against her cheek. She didn’t pull away. She couldn’t, if she was being honest, though every instinct told her she ought to.

No kissing.

She had made that rule clear before they agreed to this.

Dougal kept his hand in the air, hovering just inches away from her cheek. His entire focus was on her lips, soft and pale pink.

How would she taste?

He had tasted her cunt, but he had yet to taste her lips.

“Does yer rule still stand?” His voice was rough, quieter than before.

She nodded, unable to trust her own voice.

His jaw tightened, something raw flickering behind his eyes before he shuttered it away, the careful distance he always managed to reclaim settling back over him like armor.