Page 79 of The Highlander's Temporary Bride
His words moved her, and yet…
“Thank you, but you are a warrior in a warriors’ land. I see that now.” She bit the inside of her cheek to try and keep the tears at bay. “Even if I wanted—or was free…” The same tenderness and heat from their encounter in the secret woods flickered in his eyes. “I cannot just forget that your first solution is to kill. I cannot forget that you killed your brother for me.”
“I dinnae regret that, Emma,” Grant said softly. “It was only a matter of time before he showed his true colors. And more, I told ye that I will never regret protectin’ ye. I will always doeverything in me power to keep ye safe.” He held out his hands. “But I will also do everything in me power to keep the peace and strive to be a better man. For ye. I promise.”
His words reverberated through her, making her breath hitch.
“I have ordered the finest piano for ye,” he revealed in a soft voice. “I have minstrels comin’, a whole set of musicians to entertain our folk—and us. So that we may dance every night.”
At that, Emma trembled all over, and her knees seemed barely able to hold her. The look in his eyes overwhelmed her.
“You did?” she whispered.
“Aye.”
“I… No, Grant, we cannot,” she stammered. She gripped the front of her dress as she shook with the effort of staying upright. “I thank you for your words, for your deeds—for saving me and being so… so wonderful. But even if I wanted you, the Queen… her will shall not be defied.”
“Ah.” Grant leaned back against the wall and offered her a wicked smile. “So, ye do want me?”
Emma threw her hands up in the air, furious, itching to smack the smirk off his face as much as she wanted to throw herself at him.
“Did you hear me?” she cried. “It does not matter.”
Grant stared at her, not speaking for several moments, before he said in a soft voice that warmed her entire body, “It does to me.”
Emma cursed, and his eyes went wide. A smile spread across his face, but it faltered when she began to weep.
“Do not follow me!” she shouted as she fled back inside. “Go back to Scotland. You must leave, Grant. You cannot be here.”
“Nay, Emma,” he called after her, his husky voice barely audible above the stillness. “Ye dinnae understand that Icannae.”
Emma had tried everything—wandering around Cambarelle, attempting to play the pianoforte, trying to find a new book to read, even cleaning her room and attempting a bit of needlepoint.
Nothing worked. Time and again, as the day dragged on, she returned to the second landing to see if Grant—no, Laird Ronson—had left.
Every time, even as the sky turned a shade of soft rose, her entire body ran hot and cold. Her fingers trembled, prickling with nerves, and her breaths grew short. A wave of dizziness would sweep through her as she approached the window, and then shewould have to take a deep breath before finally coming to the glass.
He’s still there.
Her knees went weak, and she sank into the soft chair there, resting her head on her hand. A laugh escaped her lips, and she shook her head.
Glancing around, Emma was glad that she’d told the servants to enjoy their day off. She could not get rid of all of them, and she could not be sure if anyone had seen him, but so far no one had said anything. Perhaps they feared speaking out of turn. But they would surely tell her aunt. And her father.
What if he stays there all night?
Emma froze, then shoved herself out of the chair. Her entire body seemed to thrum with drunken stars as she flew down the stairs, her skirts billowing behind her. She felt like a flame, one that called to Grant, who stepped forward like a man starved for even the hint of warmth. His eyes burned into hers, a brightness in that dark green like a sun about to burst forth from a heaving, endless sea, turning all the waters vibrant.
Such impossibilities, an ocean with a star, water and fire, all seemed possible as Emma crossed to where Grant still stood.
And something deep within her whispered,He shall not leave.
“Have you gone entirely mad, my Laird?” she blurted out, for that thought had made her stop just out of his reach.
She knew that he could step forward and catch her in one move, and that she probably would not see him coming.
He will always catch me.
Emma crushed down the thrill in her heart, for it did not hold. None of this could. Instead, anger welled up inside her.
