Page 48 of Healing the Highland Sinner
“’Tis nae yer fault, Rosalind.”
“It is though.”
“Yer braither made a decision tae follow ye,” he said. “Just as Cormac made a decision.”
A wry grin twisted her lips. “It daesnae make it feel any better though, eh?”
“Nay. It daesnae. But it’s just as true for Cormac as it is fer yer braither.”
She fell silent but nodded as the fire flickered across his face and in his eyes. The moment between them felt charged, like the air just before a spring storm. Her lips parted and she felt herself being pulled to him as if by some unseen gravity. And when their lips touched, Rosalind felt a stitch in her heart. Her breath caught in her throat and her entire body exploded in sensations.
She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to her, their kiss deepening. She gasped as Ellair ran his fingers through her hair, his tongue swirling around hers passionately. Rosalindfelt herself falling into his kiss and into him. She wanted to surrender to him. To give herself over to the passion and desire coursing through her.
“Nay,” she gasped and quickly pulled back. “Nay. I’m sorry, we cannae dae this.”
“’Tis all right,” he said. “But one day, ye’re goin’ tae have tae decide where ye stand. Dae ye trust me, or dinnae ye?”
“’Tis naethin’ tae dae with trust.”
“Isnae it?”
She fell silent and turned to stare into the flames. On some level, she realized he was right. It was about trust. And although part of her wanted to trust him enough to let him in, the other part of her was terrified to even contemplate the idea.
CHAPTER 21
The storm had finally broken, allowing Rosalind and Ellair to make it back to the compound. After hearing of Ewan’s ambush and their close scrape, Ciar had predictably wanted to take the fight to him and wipe him off the map once and for all. Rosalind had been tempted. But she knew they didn’t have the manpower to make an assault against him. Especially with Ciar still not fully recovered from his wound. The odds were that they would lose.
So, for the moment, they would do nothing but carry on as normal and wait for their moment to strike. It would come. And when it did, Rosalind would be ready. She would not tolerate these attacks on her or her people without doling out a healthy dose of retribution. Ewan would pay. There was no question about that. It was simply a matter of waiting for the right time.
It was one reason she’d been able to rise to the top of Thurso’s underworld. People feared her husband and now her and with good reason. She was calculating and ruthless. Normally. Because ever since Ellair had stormed into her life, everythinghad felt like it was teetering on the edge of a dagger. Her thinking had been anything but clear and calculated. Whenever that man was around, her mind felt fogged over, her thoughts opaque. And it had only gotten worse after they’d shared that kiss.
Rosalind sighed and tucked her hair behind her ears, trying to forget the way that kiss had made her feel. It had lit her up inside in ways she’d never felt before. Just remembering it still did. Her skin tingled and goosebumps crawled across her skin, feeling like the legs of a thousand ants marching up her arms.
She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the wooden crate in front of her, trying to banish the memory of their kiss from her mind. And yet, she couldn’t. He was like a splinter stuck just beneath her skin. She couldn’t look at him without wanting to throw herself into his arms. Couldn’t speak to him without wanting to kiss him. The days after their kiss had been marked by a strain and awkwardness that kept building inside of her, growing so intense, she thought she might burst. She finally had to get away from him and had left early that morning to go to the warehouse just to have a little time alone. A little time to clear her head.
“That bleedin’ man,” she muttered.
“Ye look distressed, lass.”
The unexpected voice sent a hot flood of adrenaline through her. Rosalind stood up straight, her hand moving to the dagger on her belt, silently cursing herself for being so caught up in herown thoughts she’d let somebody get so close to her without her hearing them coming. It was stupid. Especially with Ewan on the hunt for her. The man standing a few feet away was known to her. He worked the docks, but was one of Sinclair’s men. He was unarmed though, and held an empty hand out, showing her he was no threat.
“Easy, lass,” he said.
“What dae ye bleedin’ want, Fischer?”
“I’m only here tae deliver a message.”
She didn’t loosen her hold on the hilt of her blade, her eyes cutting left and right to make sure nobody else was sneaking up on her.
“I’m here alone,” Fischer said.
“What dae ye want?”
“Laird Sinclair wants tae remind ye of yer obligations.”
“As if I could forget.”
“He kens ye’ve had some recent… doubts,” he said. “But he wants tae assure ye that yer braither is still alive. He’s still breathin’. But he also wanted me tae tell ye that if ye dinnae stoppokin’ around where ye shouldnae, or disobey his orders again, that can and will change.”
