Page 25 of The Highlander’s Dangerous Desire

“Nae at night. Only owls are active in the night, and they dinnae like the fire light.” Ewan reached out and gently wrapped an arm around Grace’s shoulders. “Ye’ve naething tae fear.”

“I know. It is just… I am not used to being outdoors after night falls. And I am not terribly familiar with noises in the wilds.” A hesitation. “Or the Highlands.”

“Ye dinnae need tae fear anything that is nae wolves howling, an’ ye’ll ken them well enough if they sound.”

Grace blinked at him. “But, you mentioned pookas…and other things…”

“Dinnae approach any wild horses, and ye’ll be fine.” Ewan smiled and dared to tug her closer to his shoulder. To his surprise, Grace leaned against him without comment. “I’ll keep ye safe from the rest.”

“I believe ye.” She was still shivering, and Ewan took her hand in his own, one eye on the bowls simmering in the fire while he rubbed soft, soothing circles on the back of her hand.

“Ye’re safe with me. There’s naught tae fear, and naething in these woods I cannae handle. The rocks will provide shelter if a storm comes, and we’ll hear aught else that comes.”

In the distance, he heard a snap and smiled. “There… that was me snare. We’ll have extra meat for breakfast.”

“You eat meat for breakfast?”

“When I can.” Ewan reached for some of the bannocks on the fire. “Here. Try this. It tastes better than ye think.”

Grace nibbled it with a look of trepidation on her face. Then she blinked, surprised. “That is…”

“Aye. Now, try dipping it in the broth bein’ formed by the meat stewin’ in the bowls.”

Grace did so. Her eyes widened. “Oh. I’ve never… I would never have imagined that dried meat and oat cakes could taste like that.”

“That’s bannocks an’ hearth stew fer ye.” Ewan stuck his own bannock in the stew. The spices from the meat had infused the liquid, giving added flavor to the slight char on the oat cake.

“And the snare?”

“Likely rabbit. Can make rabbit and watercress, or somethin’ similar in the morning.”

Grace nodded. She took several more bites. Then she seemed to realize how close she was to him, and pulled back with flushed cheeks. “I… I’m sorry… it is not proper to be seated so close together. I am unmarried, and you…”

“I’ll nae tell if ye dinnae.” Ewan chuckled. “’Tis only fer warmth and safety in the night, lass.” He let his voice drop lower. “Just like in the hut.”

“You rogue.” Grace’s voice lacked the heat of anger. She sounded almost teasing. She also didn’t pull away. Instead, she even relaxed into his shoulder.

Ewan swallowed, his throat suddenly dry and his leggings suddenly tight about the groin area. He’d held many a woman in his arms, but holding Grace was different. Different from the women who’d shared his bed for a night or two.

Holding Grace made his heart beat and his blood heat in a way he couldn’t remember ever feeling before. He tried to ignore the feeling, but it seemed to seep through his veins like the warmth of a potent glass of whiskey.

An owl hooted, and Grace shivered. “What…”

“Just a bird. An owl, huntin’ mice.”

Grace stiffened. “Are there… mice? Out here?”

“Mice, voles, all manner o’ creatures. But they’ll nae come near a fire, and they generally shy away from people. They ken that we’re greater threats than those they’re familiar with, an’ keep themselves scarce.” It may have been a mouse or a vole that had gotten caught in his snare, but he wasn’t about to mention that to Grace.

“I have no idea how I shall possibly be able to sleep.” Grace shivered again. “It is all so… unfamiliar. Every sound…”

Ewan wrapped his arm around her, using his cloak and the extra warmth as an excuse. “Just relax. Ye’re safe.”

“Will you tell me something? A story, to take my mind off the sounds?”

The request felt a little ridiculous, but it was an easy enough one to fulfill. “If ye like. What sort o’ story?”

Her free hand traced over the back of his arm. Then she frowned and tugged on the sleeve to reveal the end of a long scar on his forearm. “What happened here?”