Page 30 of Kilted Abduction
“’Tis goin’ tae be cold tonight.”
“I’ll be fine.”
With a heavy sigh, he took the cup back from her, then swallowed the contents in one hearty swallow setting the cup down on the table.
“Nay sense lettin’ it go to waste then,” he said.
Thunder rumbled outside and the wind was picking up with gusts strong enough to shake the walls of the lodge. She looked around warily.
“Is this lodge goin’ tae fall down on top of us?” she asked.
“It’ll be fine,” he said. “It has stood through much worse.”
A cold gust of wind rattled the wooden shutters over the windows, filling the room. Ciara shivered and tried to pull the furs on her shoulders around her tighter. She turned to seeMagnus watching her, his icy blue eyes looking even colder in the flickering light from the fire in the hearth.
Shadows danced across his face, and she was once again struck by how handsome he was. Ciara turned away, not wanting him to see her physical attraction in her eyes. Elspeth always said she had a very readable face. It was something she had tried to work on, but she feared she hadn’t yet mastered the art of the blank face. It was a skill Magnus seemed to have in spades, because he was one of the most difficult people to read she had ever encountered. She had seen more expression in the statues around her father’s keep.
“Ye really should have a sip of this whisky,” he said. “It’ll warm ye right up.”
Ciara sighed. She wasn’t much of a drinker. She didn’t even tend to drink wine with her dinner very often. She didn’t like the feeling of being out of control she’d gotten on those few occasions when she’d imbibed a little too much. Ever since the last time, she’d pretty much stayed away from liquor altogether. But she had never been in a situation like they were currently in. Their circumstances were pretty dire. As cold as things were right now, Ciara knew they were only going to get colder as the night wore on.
“Fine,” she finally relented.
Magnus nodded and poured another bit of whisky from his skin then handed the cup over to her. She took the cup between her hands and looked up at him.
“I dinnae suppose ye’d loosen me bonds?—”
His booming laughter cut her off mid-sentence and she glowered at him. It was worth a try. Ciara raised the cup to her lips and took a small sip. Her mouth immediately burst with heat and she swallowed it down, grimacing as the liquid burned its way down her throat. It hit her belly and exploded with a heat that started to spread outward through her body, making her tingle from head to toe. She had to admit it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
As Ciara took another sip and sat back relishing the warmth flowing through her veins, Magnus walked over and settled the furs down on her shoulders again, pulling them tight around her.
“How is that?” he asked.
“Better,” she replied.
“Good.”
He threw some more wood into the hearth and watched as the flames leaped higher. The wood cracked and popped as the fire consumed it. Ciara studied Magnus’ profile, feeling a flutter in her belly that had nothing to do with the whisky. As if he sensed her gaze on him, he turned and their eyes met, sending a bolt of lightning through her heart, making it pound in her breast. She quickly turned away, staring down into the amber liquid in her cup as she tried to calm herself.
Magnus returned to the chair at the small table and sat down. He filled his own cup then took a sip. The wind whistled sharply outside, cutting into the silence they were wrapped in. He held his cup between his large hands and stared into it and Ciara found herself wishing she could hear his thoughts.
“May I ask ye something?” she finally asked.
“What?”
“Why are ye so convinced I’m a traitor?”
Magnus swirled the whisky around in his cup and seemed to be thinking about his answer. Or perhaps whether he should answer her at all. He finally raised his gaze to her, his expression sober.
“I suppose it daesnae matter. Ye’re goin’ tae find out soon enough anyway,” he said, almost as if to himself. “We were told by somebody we trust that the English had a spy among us. That somebody was workin’ fer them and against the clans. We were told it was a young woman with golden hair and emerald eyes. And that she had skill with a blade and a bow.”
“But that… I mean, it sounds like me,” Ciara said. “But it ain’t me. I’m nae workin’ fer the English. I’m nae spy.”
Magnus eyed her closely for a long moment, not saying anything. She could tell though, he was trying to do whatever it was he’d tried to do before. And judging by the frustration thatflashed across his face, was having no more success. She wanted to ask about it but knew if she did, he would shut down on her like he had before. She had him talking and wanted to keep more. If she knew more about the situation, perhaps she could convince him she wasn’t what he believed her to be.
“Where are ye takin’ me?” she asked.
“Our ancestral home is Dunvegan Castle,” he replied.
