He stared at her, unblinking. “Ye’ve got a way of getting under my skin, Charlotte.”
Her pulse jumped at the way he said her name, like it was something precious. His gaze dropped to her lips.
Charlie swallowed hard. Oh God. She was falling again. She had to get some semblance of control back. She affected a cocky grin, like the one Niall so often used. “You’re staring, Campbell.”
Niall smirked. “And?”
Charlie arched a brow. “And if you keep looking at me like that, I might start thinking you actuallylikeme.”
His smile faded, replaced by something softer. Something real. “And what if I do?”
Her breath caught. She should look away, should shut this down before she did something reckless—like close the tiny distance between them.
Do not kiss him. Do not—
Niall leaned in slightly, and for one terrifying, exhilarating moment, Charlie thought she might actually let him.
Then her survival instincts kicked in. She placed a finger against his chest, gently but firmly stopping him in his tracks. “You know, Campbell, I think I’d rather focus on brick-making right now.”
Niall blinked, then let out a startled laugh. “My company comes secondary to brick-making now?”
Charlie grinned. “Yep. Very important work. Can’t be getting distracted by handsome, brooding lairds with tragic backstories, can I?”
He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Ye’re a menace, lass.”
Charlie winked. “You love it.”
Still smiling, Niall lifted her hand and pressed a quick, surprising kiss to her knuckles before letting go. “Aye. Maybe I do.”
Charlie’s stomach did an entirely unhelpful flip.
She ignored it. Absolutely ignored it.
Instead, she stood, dusting off her apron. “Right, then. Less flirting, more brick-making.”
Niall sighed. “If ye say so, lass.”
But as she turned back to the kiln, she could still feel his eyes on her. And damn it, she liked it.
She heard the door open and close behind her and only then did she trust herself to turn around. She was alone in the workshop and she knew it was for the best. She knew Niall had done the right thing in leaving.
But she still wished he’d stayed.
***
NIALL STARED INTO THEcandle flame as it wavered in a draft coming beneath the door, then picked up his goblet and took another swig of ale. Somewhere outside an owl hooted and through the window, he could see the moon beginning to rise, coating the manor with silver.
He had no idea what time it was. Late. So late that the rest of the house was abed with only those that kept watch from the gates still awake. Except for Niall, of course.
He’d not even tried to sleep, knowing full well it would elude him.
His mind was too full, his thoughts too chaotic. The sabotage of the mill. His confrontation with MacAllister and his brother, Bryce. The pamphlet about him and Charlotte...
No, he doubted he would get much sleep this night.
The crumpled gossip pamphlet lay discarded on the table. It infuriated him that Charlotte had been dragged into this, into the intrigue and shadows that had become his life. She was just an innocent bystander. Would his darkness swallow her as well?
He remembered the look in her eyes when he had admitted he wouldn’t mind if the gossip were true. He pushed a hand through his hair and tried to clear his mind, but the image of her kept coming back.
