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“I do,” Taran slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his warmth as they continued to the car. “ ’Tis been a long day and I’m sure ye had a long plane trip before that. I’m surprised ye’re still standing. We need tae get ye settled in and warmed up or ye’ll be in no shape tae explore the Fairy Glen tomorrow.”
“Mmmm,” she moaned, dismissing any thoughts about appropriateness as she snuggled against the softness of his tartan. “The breeze was lovely at first, but now it’s getting a little too chilly.”
“Winds off the Firth are tae be expected,” he warned, pulling her tighter to savor the feel of her beneath his arm. “I hope our wee tent will measure up.”
Once they reached the car he held the door for her, waiting as she settled inside. Even his tartan wasnae enough tae keep the chill away from the spot she’d occupied. Closing the door, he hurried to the passenger side and climbed inside, giving the console between them a disparaging look.
* * *
Paige followed Taran,who’d insisted on carrying both backpacks, to an area just off the sandy beach of Moray Firth. “I ken this will do,” he said, setting the packs down in the long grass to pull out the collapsed tent. “ ’Twill only take a moment tae set this wee beastie up and then we’ll have ye snug as can be.”
True to his word, the small dome came to life in minutes while she fished out their mummy bags and water bottles.
“Would ye like a fire?” he asked, laying the bags out inside the tent.
“No, thank you,” she mumbled over another yawn. “I’m too tired to enjoy it.”
“Ye first, then,” he said, indicating the tent. “I’ll join ye in a bit.”
With a small flashlight in hand, Paige crawled inside the tiny enclosure, relieved to be out of the growing wind. She nearly filled the space by herself. How was it going to hold both of them? Glancing at their bags tucked snuggly together, she couldn’t imagine how Taran’s bulk would fit into the bag, or the tent.
Had he not been so gentle and caring thus far, she’d worry about being in such tight proximity with what amounted to a virtual stranger. Unfortunately, Taran’s gentle strength was part of what drew her to him, distracting her from her goal. She mustn’t allow that to continue.
Although, if she were honest, the threat wasn’t him, at all. The only danger she faced was not keeping a tight rein on herself.
Just go to sleep, Paige. You’re overly tired and vulnerable. You’ll feel differently tomorrow.
Peeling off her shirt she realized when they’d grabbed their packs, she hadn’t included anything from her luggage. She had nothing to sleep in tonight and no fresh clothes for tomorrow. She’d worn this outfit for more hours than she could count, already. If she slept in them tonight she couldn’t possibly wear them again tomorrow. There was a limit on how far she was willing to push her hygiene boundaries, even in these circumstances.
She’d have to sleep in the buff, but she couldn’t summon the energy to care. Sighing, she wiggled out of her jeans. She’d probably be warmer cocooned inside the mummy bag without them, anyway.
Folding her clothes into a tidy pile, she laid them near her head where she could reach them in the morning. Hopefully, she could tuck them inside her bag to warm them before putting them on.
Congratulating herself on her forethought, she sighed aloud when she slipped inside the bag. It felt so good to lay down after a tortuously long flight and the long hours and anxiety since. Her eyelids were so heavy she couldn’t believe she’d kept them open this long.
Leaving the flashlight on for Taran, she’d barely started to drift when he crawled inside. The little domed tent seemed to shrink to doll size as he maneuvered his bulk around enough to settle atop his bag, release the length of his tartan, and wrap up in it.
He wasn’t going to get inside his bag? She waited, shifted, waited again. “When you’re ready, will you turn the flashlight off, please?”
“Aye, lass,” he said, raising up on an elbow. “Are ye warm enough? I dinnae need my bag. Ye can add it atop yers, if ye’d like.”
She didn’t have to turn her head to see him. He was literally leaning over her in the small space. “I…I think I’ll be fine. But thank you.”
He reached out to tuck the already snug bag under her chin. “Good night, then,” he said softly, letting his gaze drift to her mouth.
She wasn’t sure if the brush of his thumb over her jaw was accidental or not. “Good night, Taran,” she managed.
Seconds later, he moved away, and the tent became a dark cave.
Minutes passed while she stared into the dark and noted every change in his breathing. Had he fallen asleep, or was he awake and as aware of her as she was of him? “Taran?” she finally asked in the barest whisper.
“Aye, lass?” his deep voice came from the dark.
“I…I wanted to thank you. You know—for coming with me. I want you to know how much I appreciate your help.”
“ ’Tis my pleasure tae help ye, Paige.” She heard his sigh and a bit of rustling, and then nothing.
Lying there, she had no idea how much time had passed. She couldn’t sleep and couldn’t find a reason not to. The rhythm of the waves washing onshore, and the cadence of Taran’s breathing should have lulled her to sleep, despite the wind tugging on their tent. Still, she stared into the dark, hardly daring to move. If she turned on her side, would she be face to face with him?
