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Be a good girl.
“You are a ridiculous man,” I say, attempting to deflect his attention.
“Perhaps,” he says, before falling silent.
We walk on and as we do, I am so taken with my surroundings I forget that I’d decided to not let the silence between us go on. The sweeping green dotted with purple heather stretching out until it meets the brilliant blue of the sky is breathtaking.
“I’d hoped to steal some time with ya,” he says. “Before I’ll be gone for a bit.”
Gone? It’s a good thing if he’ll be gone. Best way to avoid temptation is to remove yourself from it. But if it’s good, then why has my stomach dropped to the ground?
“You’re leaving?” I try to sound casual, barely interested, but the strain is clear in my voice if he has ears at all.
“Aye. We’ll be off to get some cattle.”
Chills pass over me and a sense of fear. I think I know what he really means.
“You mean steal some cattle?”
“Liberating them,” he counters.
That vague tug of something forgotten happens again. I try to follow it, but my memory fails. There’s something about cattle thieving and it’s important but I can’t bring it to mind no matter how I try. Which is strange because I’ve studied Scottish history most of my life, but it wasn’t focused on the MacGregor clan. Maybe that’s all it is.
“It’s dangerous, though, right?”
“Aye.”
“Don’t do it,” I say.
I hate the pleading note in my voice. The icy hand of dread reaches into my chest and grips my heart. Every beat pushes its chill out and through me. Something terrible is going to happen. I may not be able to pursue a romance with Duncan, but that sure doesn’t mean I want something bad to happen to him.
“That’s nae an option,” he says.
“Why? You agree it’s dangerous, so why do it? Don’t.”
A sense of urgency thrums in my head combining with that nagging knowing I’ve forgotten something. Something important. Like having left the oven on important.
What the devil is it?
“Lass, it’s what we do,” he says, laughing. “It’s how we survive.”
The storm of emotions is an assault inside my head. I know, with no reason or rhyme to it, that this is a moment. A moment on which everything hinges. If he goes, it will be bad. Epic bad.
“Duncan, please.” I hate the note of begging in my voice. “This one time, don’t go.”
“Quinn.” He says my name and it echoes in my head, reverberating around my skull as it contrasts with the memory of the dark stranger saying my name. “It’s fine. I promise. Nothing will happen.”
He stops, turning in and touches my face. He cups my chin in his hand and I’m staring into the icy blue of his piercing eyes.
“I like you. Please don’t do this.”
“I like you too,” he says. “Quite a lot.”
He’s so close that the warmth of his breath passes across my face, and I flush hot. My skin tingles where he touches, and I want more. My lips tremble with desire to kiss him. I want to throw myself into his arms. I want to, but I can’t.
He moves closer. The tiny distance separating us might as well be a gulf. I can’t do this. As he leans in for a kiss, I jerk back.
“No,” I say, shaking my head.
