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She nearly collided with him at the bend.
Camden.
They both halted, breath catching, the moment stretching thin as spun glass. His eyes swept over her as if he had been searching for her without realizing it, as if finding her there had knocked the wind clean from his chest.
“Anne,” he said, her name a low sound, roughened by something she could not quite place.
“I…” She gestured weakly with the bucket in her hand. “I was just…”
He stepped closer. “I was coming to seek ye. I left in haste.”
The space between them vanished. She could feel the heat of him. The tension in his shoulders. The way his breath came faster now, as though he had been running.
“Camden,” she whispered, though she didnae ken what she meant by it. Warning, perhaps. Or invitation.
His hand lifted, hesitated just a heartbeat at her cheek, as if he were asking a question he already feared the answer to. Then his fingers brushed her skin, and the touch alone sent a tremor through her.
“I cannae stop thinking of ye,” he said, the words spilling out as if he had held them back for too long. “Everywhere I turn, there ye are.”
Before she could answer, he kissed her.
This time it was not gentle. It was not careful. His mouth claimed hers with a sudden, aching urgency. As if he were trying to lose himself in the taste of her, in the feel of her, in anything that was not the thoughts chasing him.
Anne’s heart leapt and then faltered.
His kiss was desperate.
She felt it in the way his hand tightened at her waist, in the way his breath shuddered against her lips, in the way he clung to her as though she were something he might drown without.
And in that instant, she understood.
The realization slid into her chest like a blade. This was not about her. Not truly. This was about forgetting.
Anne pulled back, her hands pressing against his chest, her pulse racing for an entirely different reason now.
“Stop,” she said softly, though the word cost her more than she wanted him to ken.
Camden froze, his forehead resting against hers, his breath still uneven. “Anne, dinnae push me away.
She took a step back, creating the space he had erased so easily. “I will nae be used to chase another from yer mind,” she blurted, the hurt bleeding through no matter how hard she tried to hide it. “I ken what this is, Camden. Ye are nae sure of yer feelings for that woman, Eara. And I deserve more.”
His face fell. The fog in his eyes cleared as her words found their mark.
“Anne, that is nae what this is.”
“Perhaps not,” she said, lifting her bucket again, her fingers tight around the handle. “But it is how it feels.”
She turned away before he could see the tears she refused to let fall, her steps quickening down the path as the evening bells began to ring, each chime echoing the ache in her chest.
Camden didnae follow, which in her mind confirmed that he was unsure and what she’d said could be true.
Chapter Fifteen
If there was a way to erase the day and begin again, Camden would have happily done so. At seeing Anne sitting with Effie at the village square, he’d been glad to see her. It was his plan to speak with her openly and honestly and to ask her to meet him for a walk the following day. He needed to ken her thoughts about him, to once and for all, get clarity if there was a possibility of something building between them.
Of all the women in the village, she was the one who had broken through the thick walls he’d erected since Eara’s betrayal. There was a quiet certainty about Anne. Her unassuming beauty, the softness of her expression, and her deeply caring nature. Anne was beautiful inside an out. The way she considered others before herself was a rare quality.
A certainty had settled within him: the knowledge that he was able to trust again. Trust not just a woman, but trust himself to be open to love. Love. The word echoed in his mind. Was that what he felt for Anne? The beginnings of such a deep emotion?
