Page 73 of Highland Spy

Somehow it all only made her appear even more beautiful, more real, her face sweeter and lovelier against the rumpled mess.

They’d been naked in the same room together only moments before, and the knowledge of that hummed in the air between them.

It was in the atmosphere of shared intimacy when they ate their dinner of hard cheese, made all the harder by the cold, and bannocks washed down with some ale.

The entire time, Connor was extremely aware of her proximity—the grace of her fingers when they held the skin of ale, the small, delicate bites she took from her oatcake, the decadent flicker of firelight playing upon her smooth skin.

He’d felt her gaze on him as well and let it stroke his consciousness with gluttonous appreciation.

“Where will we sleep?” Ariana asked, after the last of the food was gone.

“On the floor on a blanket,” he answered.

She surveyed the room. “Only one is dry.”

Indeed, only one was dry. He’d already considered as much. They would have no choice but to sleep next to one another.

He spread his plaid on the floor and offered a wink. “I promise to behave myself.”

She settled onto the floor beside him and lay down with her back against his chest. “I’ll hold you to that, Connor Grant.”

He pulled the blanket around both of them and immediately the warmth melted them against one another. They lay together like lovers after their passion had been spent, limbs caught around the other’s, seeking closeness and heat.

She was perfect in his arms, as she’d been on the forest floor the first night of their journey. Her nearness was a balm to his senses and he reveled in the moment.

He let his mind empty of weighing thoughts, of MacAlister and his impending assassination, of Urquhart and the massacre, of the knowledge that the only way it could have fallen was through treachery.

All of it he let fade from his mind and instead focused on Ariana, realizing that, were it not for her, he could never have faced the nightmare of returning to Urquhart.

He enjoyed the moment of respite for what it was, for the following day he would have another face to haunt his nights.

That of Angus MacAlister.

Chapter 18

The scent of savory meat wafted into Ariana’s dreams. A juicy bit with the skin roasted golden brown by the lick of open flames.

Her mouth watered, but swallowing left her empty stomach angry, and a snarl rumbled from its depths.

She turned in her sleep. Her bed was hard. Too hard.

It dug into her hip bone and left her back aching.

She woke and breathed deeply. The delicious aroma was no dream.

She opened her eyes and found the fire burning low and bright in the hearth with a small, skinned animal skewered over it.

Though she couldn’t tell what it was exactly, she realized she did not entirely care.

Sunlight bathed the room in a brilliant glow, and she immediately knew she’d been asleep late into the morning.

She looked toward the window to confirm the hour and found Connor with a shoulder propped against the frame of stonework, staring out at something she could not see.

His gaze was distant, and she knew him well enough to know he’d become lost in his own thoughts. Though, as usual, his face revealed nothing.

Ariana rose from the floor to join him. Her body ached with the effort. Despite her many hours training and all the time spent on the road and on horseback, nothing could have prepared her for the repercussions of sleeping on a hard floor.

Connor glanced at her as she approached. A sliver of sunlight played over his face and made the amber and green flecks in his eyes seem to glow.