Page 59 of The Highlander's Virgin Widow
“Do we need to… talk about this?” Evander asked.
“Nay. What is there to talk about?”
Evander opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of footsteps outside the door froze the words in his mouth. Keira heard it, too, because she swallowed hard. The footsteps seemed to grow louder. She shot him a horrified look, but he remained calm in contrast. And it made her even angrier.
Then, a knock sounded at the door.
They both paused, holding their breaths, careful not to move or touch anything. It took Keira a while to notice that she was standing on her tiptoes.
“M’Lady?” a voice called, muffled by the wooden door.
Keira sighed. “Stella?”
“Aye. ‘Tis me. I heard ye from me room and thought ye might need something.”
“Oh, it must have been the bird.”
Evander turned to her, his brow furrowed in confusion. “The bird?” he whispered.
“The bird?” Stella called.
“Aye. It flew into me room. ‘Tis gone now. Ye dinnae need to worry.”
Stella seemed to hover by the door for a while. “Are ye certain ye dinnae need anything else, M’Lady?”
“Very,” Keira replied, hoping her tone was reassuring enough.
“Alright. I shall take me leave, then.”
The footsteps resumed again, but this time they grew distant. They grew fainter and fainter until none of them could hear them anymore.
“A bird?” Evander asked once the coast was clear.
Keira wrapped the shawl he had handed her around her shoulders, a wave of shame suddenly washing over her.
As if he didnae run his hands all over me body mere hours ago.
“I think ye need to leave,” Keira finally said, ignoring his question.
“Keira—”
“There’s nothing to talk about. For all intents and purposes, whatever happened last night, didnae happen.”
“Is this a jest?”
“I’m nae exactly laughing now, am I?”
Evander noticed the sharp shift in her demeanor. She did, too, but it was too late to stop. This had always been their dynamic anyway, and she found it quite easier to speak to him in this way.
“I’m just trying to be kind to ye so ye can?—”
“Well, stop.Stoptrying to be kind to me. I didnae ask for it, and frankly, I dinnae need it.”
A brief, charged silence swept over them, in which Keira took in his sculpted chest and ran her eyes over him once more. What she wouldn’t give to feel his chest beneath her palms, his heartbeat beneath her lips.
As if he had read her thoughts, he pressed her hands to his chest.
“What is this truly about, Keira?” he asked.
