Page 32 of Desiring the Highland Laird
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Sometime in thenight, Evie woke with a start. Her eyes popped open and she sat up, her heart racing as she tried to remember where she was. Her surroundings were not familiar.
Then she saw the fire burning low in the hearth and the candles still flickering in the candelabra by the bed. The horrible truth came flooding back to her once again. She was in Dundale Castle in the bedchamber that belonged to the hot Scot.
Also, she was hundreds of years in the past. Far, far away from her sister.
Evie drew up her knees, encircling them with her arms and dropping her forehead on them. What was happening with Chloe? Was she safe? Was she looking for her? Was she worried? There must be a thousand things going through her mind.
A shiver went through her. She lifted her head and peered at the dying fire. Slipping from the bed, her bare feet hit the cold stone floor. She shuddered from the cold, gooseflesh erupting all over her skin and skittering up her body.
Pausing there, she saw Callum sprawled in the chair with his legs stretched out in front of him. The memory of her dream flashed back to her. The dream where he sat in that same chairby the fire. In her dream, though, he was shirtless and she moved from the bed and stepped to him, curling herself in his lap.
She pressed her cold hands against her warming cheeks as a flush of pleasure erupted through her.
There was no way she was going to do that now. He didn’t know her. She didn’t know him.
But she wanted to know him.
Her traitorous mind let the words flicker through her thoughts.
Evie understood it was folly to attach herself to him, no matter how good-looking he was. If she had anything to say about it, she was going to get that stone from him and return home.
But that was something to worry about in the morning instead of sitting on the bed shivering in the cold of the room. She spied the pile of logs by the hearth and decided to add a few more to the fire to keep it going.
Here in the medieval world, there was no central heat.
On silent feet, she padded to the fireplace and knelt in front of it, reaching for one of the logs. Carefully, she placed first one and then another, then sat back on her heels and watched as the wood tried to catch.
It didn’t occur to her how close she was to Callum’s outstretched legs until he twitched.
She jumped, her head snapping to look up at him. He blinked his eyes open and met her gaze. For a moment, there was sleepy confusion in the blue depths. Then he instantly came wide awake and sat up straight.
“What are ye doing?”
“The fire was dying.” She motioned to it as she got to her feet and stepped away. “I added a couple of logs, but—”
“Ye need peat.”
He rose and moved behind the chair, pushing it aside and reaching for something on the other side of the hearth. When he stood straight, he held a handful of peat. He tossed it into the fire and moments later, the flames rose, emitting a lovely crackling warmth. She moved to stand in front of it, extending her hands to warm them.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said, her voice soft.
“Ye didn’t. I had a…” He paused, gazing down at her with something akin to contemplation, confusion, and a bit of desire. “A dream.”
His gaze searched her face and she suspected what he meant was he had a dreamabout her, though he didn’t say it. She warmed at the thought. She was having a hard time forgetting the one about him.
“Ye shouldna be out of the bed. It’s too cold.” He nodded back to the bed.
“I had a dream, too,” she said, ignoring his order to go back to bed. “I need to get back to my sister.”
After a long, quiet moment, he nodded. “Aye, then. I mean to take ye to her in the morn.”
Hope skipped through her. “You do?”
“I do. Get some rest, lass. We leave at first light.”
Evie turned and padded back to the bed, climbing in and pulling the thick covers over her. Callum sat back in the chair, his hands resting on the armrests as the light from the fire flickered over his face.
