Page 71 of Sinful Scottish Laird
“Lost?” she heard a familiar voice say, and her relief was so swift and great that she sagged against the wall at her back.
“Yes,” she said, finding him now.
Cailean stood beside the two men. He was taller than the others and glowered down at them. One of them spoke, and Cailean responded heatedly. Dear God, she was safe. Daisy pressed her hand to her heart to quiet it.
“Lady Chatwick,” he said, leaning over her. “They mean no harm, aye?”
“I didn’t... I didn’t know what they were saying.”
“It doesna matter,” he said as the two men dispersed into the crowd. “There is gaming here—do you mean to play?”
“No, no... I was looking for my room,” she said vaguely. Her blasted heart was racing again. Not from fright as it had been only minutes before, but from his nearness. From that cauldron of emotions that mixed and stewed in her whenever he was near.
“Aye, I’ll show you the way.” He picked up her hand, slipped it into the crook of his elbow. He proceeded to escort her from that corridor, calling for people to step aside and let them pass, turning into this corridor, and into that one, in that never-ending maze.
At last the crowd began to thin, and with the exception of a servant or two, they were alone in the corridor that led to the suite of rooms where Daisy was staying.
“Where is your guard?” he asked as they moved at a slower pace.
“He thinks I have retired for the evening,” she admitted.
“Why have you no’?”
Because of you.“There will be time enough for retiring when I return to England.”
He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “Sounds a wee bit like death.”
“It feels a wee bit like it,” she said and glanced up at him.
He was looking at her, his gaze sympathetic. “Had you come looking for me, then?” he asked.
The man understood her better than he should have. “I don’t know. Perhaps,” she admitted.
He smiled. “I thought you were cross.”
“Iamcross,” she assured him, then sighed heavenward. “But it’s not your fault. I can’t fault the one man on earth who refused to take advantage of me, can I?”
Cailean didn’t answer. She glanced up at him again. The space between them was magnetic, the lure irresistible and heated.
They had come to her door, Daisy realized. She opened the door and pushed it open. She glanced back over her shoulder; Cailean leaned insouciantly against the wall behind him, his head lowered, his gaze dark and riveted on her.
“I must apologize,” he said.
Daisy took a step backward. “For what? You owe me no apology.”
“Aye, I do. For disappointing you,” he said.
Daisy took another step backward; Cailean pushed away from the wall and walked to her door. “It could not be helped,” she said softly. “I was destined to be disappointed.” She took another step backward. He moved to the threshold. In the low light of the corridor, and in that pleasant state of being between a dram or two of whisky, he looked almost dreamlike. “You shouldn’t come in.”
“No,” he agreed. “I shouldna kiss you, either.”
She stepped back again, so that she was now very much in her room. “You keep saying that,” she said and lifted her arms, pulling the pins from her hair.
Cailean watched her hair tumble down around her shoulders. “I keep meaning it,” he said quietly.
“Do you mean to torment me?” she asked.
“No, never, lass. If I have, you must tell me what I might do to ease you,” he said and stepped just inside her room.
