Page 90 of Laird of Steel
“Is that what ye wished to tell me? That ye’re sotted?”
“Nay.”
“What is it then?”
His brows darkened, lowering over his steely eyes like gathering thunderheads. She’d never seen him so grim.
He worked his mouth and cast a mistrustful glance over his shoulder. For someone with something to tell her, he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to spit it out.
“Not here,” he decided.
Behind him, the laird and lady were making their way toward the path.
Gellir seized her wrist, took the torch from her, and tugged her forward.
Ordinarily, her first instinct when a man grabbed her was to resist. But this was Gellir. She trusted him. Even if hewasdrunk.
She let him guide her through the wood.
They traveled at such a brisk pace, she had to struggle to keep up. The flaming brand was soon reduced to a glowing ember. If not for the well-worn path, it would have been easy to get lost in the trees.
“This way,” he murmured, turning off down the trail that led to the pond and not the castle.
“But the keep is—”
“I know.”
Where was he taking her? And why? It was a long way off course. She was weary. Carenza needed tending. And it was late.
Eventually they reached the pond. By then she was out of breath. And out of patience.
“What do ye have to tell me, Gellir?” she asked, yanking her wrist out of his grip. “Or did ye just want to go for a midnight swim?”
The brief hurt that creased his brow made her regret her harsh words.
“Sorry,” she muttered, meaning it. If he’d taken her this far from the others, he must have something important to say. “What is it?” she asked gently, clasping his forearm. “What troubles ye?”
He looked directly at her then, as if steeling his nerves for what he would say. She was shaken by the intensity of his gaze. It was compelling. And forbidden. And dangerous. Yet she was powerless to look away.
He drew up to his full height and let out a sharp exhale. Bracing himself the way she’d seen him do before a sword battle.
“I have t’tell you,” he decided. His jaw was resolute. His mouth was firm. His eyes were stern. “If I don’t tell y’ now… I ne’er will.”
A warm and wary tingling started at the back of her neck. What did he mean to say?
“Y’ deserve t’know,” he murmured.
Her eyes melted under the scorching heat of his. The warmth wound its way around her throat. Smoldered on her cheeks. Ignited in her ears.
“Y’ deserve…” His gaze burned her with yearning. “So much more.”
There was no mistaking his message. Nor what the “so much more” left unspoken. Too much ale had stripped his mask away. Raw passion blazed in his eyes.
The same desire burned in her. And she longed to answer him. Hell, she’d longed for him for years.
But she wasn’t drunk. And he wasn’t himself. The craving they felt now would be gone in a moment. If they yielded to their baser instincts, the guilt they’d endure would last a lifetime.
She knew the two words that would sober him. Two words that would break the spell of lust. Reverse the wicked curse of desire the Beltane faeries cast upon them all.
