Page 37 of Wedded to the Heartless Highlander
His hand moved to cup her cheek almost on instinct, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. She looked up, her breath catching, her green eyes luminous, drawing him in like a siren’s call. For a brief, maddening moment, he wanted nothing more than to lean down and taste her again, to lose himself in the feel of her lips against his.
But he forced himself to let go, dropping his hand abruptly, feeling the warmth lingering on his fingertips. “Good work, both of ye,” he said. But the words felt inadequate.
Erica’s eyes lingered on him, her expression a mix of confusion and something else—a spark of understanding, or perhaps something deeper. He nodded curtly and stepped back, leaving them with a sense of agitation bubbling under his skin. He needed distance, a respite from this need that only seemed to grow the more time he spent in her presence.
Calvin caught up with him, a smirk on his face. “Looks like ye’re growin’ soft,” he teased, his tone light but cautious.
Hunter shot him a withering look. “Dinnae mistake an act of kindness for anythin’ more.”
“Aye, but I’d say ye’re kinder than ye realize,” Calvin replied, serious now. “Especially when it comes to her.”
Hunter clenched his hands into fists, wrestling with the truth of Calvin’s words. “That’s enough.”
They walked in silence until the corridors grew quiet. The shadow of his past, of those he’d lost, loomed over him still, and any thought of moving on felt like a betrayal, as though he’d be erasing memories he wasn’t ready to let go.
His heart ached at the thought of his family, those he’d lost and vowed never to replace. Marrying, having children, living ‘happily ever after’—it all felt like a betrayal. Like he’d be turning his back on them, erasing the only tangible reminder he still had of them. He knew what his duty entailed, yet some part of him felt like he was trying to fill shoes that would never fit quite the same.
Calvin clapped a hand on his shoulder as if sensing his thoughts. “Hunter,” he said quietly, his voice steady, “movin’ forward isnae the same as forgettin’. It doesnae mean ye will be replacin’ them.”
Hunter didn’t answer, the weight of his memories pressing down on him like stones. His old life felt like a distant dream, something that had slipped from his grasp so quickly he hadn’t even had time to mourn. And now, standing on the brink of something new, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
But there was Erica, drawing him in, breaking his walls without even trying. It unsettled him, her ease, the way she challenged him with that fiery spirit, igniting a passion he thought he’d buried. And Lily, too—he owed it to her to find peace, to be the strength she needed, even if that meant embracing a future he hadn’t planned for.
He sighed, walking purposefully down the corridor. He didn’t know how much longer he could deny it, this urge to claim Erica fully and completely, to start anew despite the pain it might dredge up. His heart wrestled with his mind, but one thought resounded loudest of all—she deserved to know the truth.
In his study, he reached for a piece of parchment. He wrote, scribbled, scratched, crumpled, and then reached for another… and another. Until, finally, he relented.
The note was short, but it would do. Hunter folded it in half and asked Kara to deliver it to her mistress.
There. Now she’ll ken the truth.
10
Erica could hardly believe what had happened—the soft, unexpected gentleness Hunter had shown when admiring the paintings. She never thought him capable of picking up on anyone’s cues, let alone her subtle signals, but he had.
The way he had patted her head and brushed his fingers over her cheek had left her feeling dizzy. She replayed the moment in her mind, the warmth of his hand still lingering on her skin. As much as she hated to admit it, she wanted to know more of him—this gentler side, and the other parts of him that he kept hidden behind his stern exterior.
That night, after tucking Lily in, she retreated to her chamber, sighing as she stepped inside. But then she stopped short, her gaze falling on an unexpected sight—a bouquet of wildflowers, their soft petals shaded in pale purples and deep greens, rested on her bed. Beside them lay a small, folded piece of paper.
She blinked, hardly daring to breathe as she picked up the note and read it.
These remind me of you and your scent.
Her heart skipped a beat. Hunter’s rough handwriting sent a thrill through her that was both exhilarating and unsettling.
These remind him of me?
She glanced back at the flowers, her fingers grazing the delicate petals. The wild scent that wafted from them was fresh, earthy, and just a little sweet—qualities she hadn’t expected him to notice about her, but ones that now made her pulse race. It was almost absurd, how a few simple words and a handful of flowers could make her stomach flutter madly.
As she sat on the edge of the bed, she heard a girlish giggle in the hallway. Lily poked her head around the door, wide-eyed and curious.
“Ye are supposed to be in bed,” Erica said with a raised eyebrow.
Lily blushed but pushed the door open further and stepped inside. “Well, I forgot to tell ye somethin’.”
“What’s so funny then, hmm?” Erica asked, though she couldn’t suppress her smile.
“Uncle Hunter likes ye!” Lily squealed as if she’d just uncovered a grand secret.
