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“Certainly, they would have something to say about me taking a MacKinlay as a wife.” He then kissed the tip of her pointer finger, just before he wrapped his lips around it.

Avelina swallowed.

He took her finger in deeper, suckled it. That feeling assaulted her once again, the one between her legs. “Niall. . .”

He stopped. Unfortunately. “Aye, ’tis a silly notion indeed.”

Of course, he was right.

“And one we should discuss further.” He dropped her hand.

Avelina’s heart raced. Had he truly said. . .

“’Tis madness,” she said.

“Aye.”

“To even consider such a thing.”

“Indeed.”

“We are enemies.”

“Our clans, are, aye.” Niall smiled. “But it seems we’ve proven this eve that we are not.”

She swallowed.

“If I do not leave your chamber, there will be no thought or discussion on the matter. We will, instead, make a rash decision.” He smiled. “Though admittedly, ’twould be an enjoyable one.”

It was as if her entire life had just shifted.

Chapter Thirteen

Niall would not, could not, marry Lady Avelina MacKinlay.

“You are awake still?”

Kieran had been discovered, lost, after the Battle of The Black Friars. Despite Niall’s parents’ best efforts, none knew from where he came. He had not yet seen ten summers, but no clan or family had claimed him, and after a season had passed, it had been decreed he was now a part of their family. More than that, a son. A brother to Niall, his only sibling after his mother had nearly died giving birth to him, making it impossible for her to do so again. Niall rarely thought of Kieran as anything other than a full brother. But now, knowing what he was about to say. . . a rare seed of doubt as to Kieran’s possible response to his intentions crept into his mind.

“Aye,” Niall said. ’Twas unlikely he would sleep much this eve.

Though he was glad to have a private chamber, ’twas small. Much smaller than Lina’s. His brother was in a second bed next to his, and Niall had been listening to his steady breathing, assuming Kieran had been sleeping. Perhaps he had.

“Did you just wake?” Kieran asked.

“Aye. You know ’tis difficult for me to remain asleep for long.”

“You went to see her.”

’Twas not a question, so Niall did not answer. Until his brother pressed him.

“I know not your intentions, Niall, but as I said before, ’tis a dangerous game you play.”

Niall knew it well. “My intentions,” he repeated, not having any more to offer.

“You cannae defile such a woman. Nor,” he added quickly, before Niall could respond, “would I expect it of you.”

The lone candle flickering between them did little to illuminate his brother’s face, but as Niall turned onto his side and looked toward the man who knew him best in this world, he considered saying the words that swirled through his mind.