Page 78 of Trapped with the Vicious Highlander
“My place isn’t here, Brodrick. You know it. I know it as well. It is just better for everyone this way. Please, do not make it harder than it already is.”
“This wasnae even the deal. The plan was that ye’ll stay for a month,” Brodrick retorted, the fire in his eyes overtaking the desperation in his voice. “The month isnae over yet.”
“But my work here is done. Margaret can speak. She adores you. She adores the castle. She does not need me around anymore. You should be glad it didn’t even take a month in the first place.”
“A month,” Brodrick repeated. “That was our deal.”
A bitter chuckle escaped Ava’s lips as she closed the gap between them.
“Well, it is quite a good thing I am not good at following orders, is it not?”
A tense pause ensued, and for a second, Ava’s eyes searched his, looking for something—possibly redemption, closure, or just the hint of some kind of resolution. When she couldn’t find any, she turned around and headed back to her box.
She hadn’t taken more than two steps when she felt his hand wrap around her wrist, his grip tight and firm.
Before she could say anything, he pulled her closer to him, her hand landing flat on his chest. She could see the things they left unsaid on his face, in the golden flecks in his eyes. The need, the yearning. It was all visible in the way his lips moved.
He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her in, his lips crashing against hers. They remained in that position for a while, the kiss invading, tearing through barricades, seeking.
Brodrick broke the kiss and looked her right in the eyes, his hands still cradling her face. “Stay. Just for tomorrow.”
Ava reached for his hands and held onto them tight, words forming in her mouth.
“Please,” Brodrick added.
Ava stared on, unable to form words that lingered at the tip of her tongue. He truly was asking her to stay. To hold on for him.
She could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice, the hope that he had managed to weaken her resolve.
* * *
“No.” Her response was sharp and quick, almost damning. Brodrick took a step back and stared at her. Like she suddenly transformed into something else. Something that was entirely and completely out of his reach. Something he tried to grasp but couldn't for some reason. Was it because it was too late? If he had spoken up earlier, if he had properly expressed his feelings, would this have happened?
“I should go, My Laird.” Ava finally whispered, her words breaking the thought process in his head, causing him to have even more questions that needed answers. She turned around and walked to the door and the questions haunted him even more.
Should he go after her? Should he stop her and ask her to stay. Should he take her right in his study one more time?
The questions lingered in his head even long after Ava was gone. He was now alone, left to his spiraling thoughts and the wave of repressed emotions that kept threatening to burst out the surface. He walked to his chair and settled behind his table, every part of his body pulsing with the desire to do something. To hit something. To lash out.
The door creaked open and his head snapped up. Had she returned?
“My Laird,” Darach stood by the door, much to Brodrick’s severe disappointment. “The men asked to speak to you.”
Brodrick rubbed his palm against his head. “I dinnae have the time. Tell them I shall come to them later.”
“They say tis quite important. Tis about the?—”
“I dinna care what it could possibly be about. I am not in the mood to see anyone. Can ye convey that?”
A tense pause followed his words. One filled with him downing the regret that he may have snapped too hard at his man at arms.
“Very well, my Laird.” Darach responded, his voice lower and gentler than before. He stepped back into the doorway and reached to close the door behind him one more time.
“Wait.” Brodrick called the last minute idea settling into his head quite harshly. “Fetch me an axe.”
“My Laird?” Darach called, the hint of worry in his voice way more evident than anything.
“I said fetch me an axe. I need to cut some logs.”
