Page 52 of A Highland Rogue to Ruin

James disengaged from Laird MacNicol, who shot James an irritated look, as his son sidled up beside his sire.

“Was the dancing fun?” James’s first words to her since yesterday.

His face was stony. He glared at Alasdair. He’d not intervened during their dance, but had allowed Alasdair to hold her.

Sakes, was he considering the marriage? Lughnasadh was, after all, a time for handfasts and alliances to be struck for the year. Is that why he’d not intervened?

“Of course.” She smiled, and bowed her head to MacNicol, though the chills wouldn’t dissipate.

“I’ll order a guard to accompany ye—”

“I’d prefer nay,” she replied.

He seemed to contemplate her, grinding his teeth and looking out upon the revelers to… She followed his gaze. Reaper. Then nodded once. “All right.”

Her brows shot up. “What, I nay have to tussle over the matter?”

His muscles bulged beneath his ear as he pumped his jaw. He was biting something back as he loomed over her. His eyes dipped and once more, took in the talon she wore.

“Be safe. Stay on the main paths. And under no circumstances leave the faire grounds.”

“Are ye feeling all right?” She pressed the backs of her fingers to his forehead as if searching for a fever.

He grunted, but swatted at her pesky fingers. She giggled.

“I, eh, nay wish to stifle ye, lass,” he ground out.

Confused, she backed away and hurried around the castle and down the footpath through the vending carts for their camp. She saddled Sunshine and walked the mare to the trees to enter the path through the woods. It was unusual for James to relent so easily and as she pondered the strange interaction, the fresh, herbal scent of lavender greeted her nose.

She looked around the trees. Around the pine needles that blanketed the ground. Up at the sunlight slanting through the creaking branches, and spotted a sprig of lavender nearby, suspiciously like the cuttings Tormund had gifted her, tied with simple twine to a branch.

She reached to it and plucked it down. Brought it to her nose.

“Meet me in the woods…” A smile curled her lips, quelling the strange uneasiness that had been assailing her all day and filling her with sudden anticipation. The lavender was fresh.

Who else would have put this here besides Tormund? Where was he? Once more, she searched around, holding the cutting to her nose.

“Torm?”

Hoping to see him leaning nonchalantly against a tree like he was wont to do, to know that whatever had started between them hadn’t yet ended, would do her wonders. But she looked high and low. He didn’t answer her.

She clicked her tongue to Sunshine and, tucking the cutting into the laces of her bodice, continued through the creaking branches. She reached a secluded stretch of clearing, overlooking Kilravock and the faire, and the silvery ribbon of river cutting a streak through the land like ore through a rock and—

“Would ye make me wait all day, angel?”

She whirled around at the deep sound. Tormund pushed off the tree she’d just passed. Dropping her reins, she dashed to him.

“I looked for ye all day!” She threw herself into his hold, locking her limbs about him as he spun her around. “Where were ye? When did ye return?”

She filled her lungs with satisfying sagebrush and sea breeze as his arms tightened, swallowing her in his hold and bracing her roughly to the tree. He dropped his lips to hers as his hips wedged tightly between her thighs. The last of the worry lifted off her, as if she’d shed an oxen yoke from her shoulders.

“Ye didna want to talk to me,” she murmured between kisses. “I thought, I thought…”

He pulled back and laid a finger across her lips. “Wheesht.”

Gazing down his chest at her, the corner of Tormund’s mouth twitched up, fell. No surprise that the smile didn’t remain, but his eyes twinkled again, warm upon her. He’d pulled away from her again, aye, but he’d come back once more. “I told ye to meet me in the woods. I returned this morn.”

“From Inverness?” He nodded. His jaw ticked. “I thought ye’d had better thoughts and finally abandoned me, and I wasna ready to lose ye, for there are only a couple days left. And I saw so many of the others celebrating at the tavern, and I thought, I worried…”