Page 79 of Desiring the Highland Laird
“Go to her. Love her. Protect her. And she will do the same for you.”
When he looked back to where Moira stood, she was gone.
Callum stood alone in the empty stable for a long moment. There was no sound other than the soft whicker of one of the horses, the quiet snore of another. One of the cats who lived in the stable sidled by and brushed against his leg, leaving behind orange fur. It was as if to remind him she was one of the best mousers around and deserved a treat if he was going to stand there all night.
He reached down and patted her head. She responded with a loud purr and more headbutts against his shin.
“All right, then, wee lassie. Let’s get ye a treat. I’m sure Roslyn has some scraps to give ye.”
The cat trotted behind him, following him to the back door leading into the kitchen, as though she understood fully what hesaid. And mayhap she did. She spent her days lazing in the stable with the horses and her nights hunting for rodents.
In the kitchen, he found scraps of their leftover meal and tossed them out to the cat. She gobbled them up, purring the entire time. He paused there in the deepening twilight of night, sitting on the stoop and petting her behind the ears. While he spoke with Moira, the sun had plummeted beneath the horizon.
The goddess told him there was no need to visit Ian MacLeod, for he would not be able to help him end the feud with the MacDonalds. It would continue until they had what they wanted—the keystone. He wondered, then, if that was why they had attacked the keep—because they knew Evie was there and had the first piece of the stone.
Love her. Protect her.
But would she do the same?
If her kisses were any indication, she would reciprocate. There was one way to find out.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Evie hurried backto the keep as fast as her legs would take her. Her lips still tingled in the aftermath of Callum’s kisses.
They were everything she had imagined them to be and more. Her heart pounded hard and fast. Her legs burned with the exertion. But she didn’t stop until she made her way to her bedchamber and burst through the door. She slammed it, leaning against it, trying to catch her breath.
Telling him she felt as though they were meant for each other was as though she had told him she was in love with him. What the devil was she thinking? She wasn’t in love with Callum.
Was she?
Yet, his reply was not one of dispute. Heagreedwith her.
She closed her eyes, pressing the tips of her fingers against her lips, remembering how magical his felt against hers. How the heat of his body washed over her. How the hard lines of his chest pressed against her. How she bent her head back and allowed him to kiss her thoroughly.
She needed to be kissedmorethoroughly, though. To make sure her feelings were correct.
A chill skittered up her spine. When she opened her eyes, she saw the abandoned hearth. The logs were still stacked neatly in the holder. She kneeled by the hearth, threw on several bricks of peat as Roslyn had shown her and then lit it. A moment later, the flame sputtered to life, emitting warmth. The flickering brilliance lit up the room.
Heaving a sigh, she decided it was time for her to retire for the night. If they were to ride for two days to meet his clan chieftain, she needed to get some rest. She lit the candle by the bed, then removed the stone from her pocket, pausing a moment to run her finger over the jagged edges beneath the cloth. She placed it on the bedside table by the candelabra.
She tugged the tie off the end of her hair to remove the braid, letting the strands fall loose about her shoulders. It felt good to run her fingers through the tangled locks and over her scalp. She wasn’t used to wearing her hair up so much and her head was tender from the constant tension of her braid. She would have to find a new way to wear her hair.
She slipped out of her overdress, remaining in her shift as she pulled back the thick blankets from the bed. She left her thick stockings on since her feet were still cold.
As she climbed into bed, pulling the covers to her chin, she wished she had a book to read to occupy her mind. She was bored, and with nothing to do, it allowed her mind to run amok with things she should not be thinking.
Things like Callum’s lips. The way he kissed her. The way his eyes sparkled in the half-light with something akin to adoration. Shewantedto believe he adored her, but who was she kidding? He was a sexy medieval Highlander and she was…
Well, she was nothing but a plain girl with freckles on her face and boring brown eyes. All that was going for her was her red hair.
A swift knock on her door startled her. She sat up, staring at it while clutching the bed covers to her chest, wondering if she should answer. Wondering who could be at her door this time of night.
Another faint knock.
“Who is it?” she called.
A pause, then, “Callum.”
