“Good.”
Their gazes caught briefly, and the air seemed to tighten again. Catherine’s chest heaved with something she couldn’t name. It felt too large to be embarrassment, too heavy to be amusement.
“Thank ye,” she said softly, her gaze lowering for the briefest moment. “Fer… believin’ in me.”
He stepped forward, closing part of the distance between them. “Ye dinnae need tae thank me,” he said quietly. “What happened here—” He gestured to the rows of stalls, the calm horses. “—that was all ye.”
Her brows drew together. “Ye helped.”
“I did naethin’ but stand in yer way. Ye’ve a way wi’ them,” he said, quieter now. “Aye, ye whisper tae the horses, Catherine.”
The words were simple, but they struck her somewhere deep. She felt heat rise up her throat before she could stop it. “That’s nonsense,” she murmured.
“Is it?”
“Aye,” she said quickly, trying for lightness. “They just ken I mean them nay harm.”
“Maybe so,” he said, his tone dropping lower still, “but that’s nae all.”
The weight of his gaze made her chest tighten again. She swallowed hard, her wit momentarily deserting her. “Ye’re makin’ me sound like some sort o’ enchantress.”
He smiled, slow and dangerous. “Maybe ye are.”
Her pulse stumbled. “If I am, then ye should be wary, me laird.”
“I am,” he said softly.
Aidan took another step closer. The light slanted through the broken roof, catching in his hair, the rough line of his jaw. His voice dropped to a low rasp. “Ye whisper tae me too.”
Catherine blinked. “What?”
His gaze didn’t waver. “When ye speak. When ye look at me. Ye dinnae even ken ye’re daein’ it, but… ye dae.”
Her breath caught, the sound barely escaping her. The words sank deep, far deeper than she wanted them to. She could feel them settle in the pit of her stomach, spreading warmth that had no right to exist. God help her, he had no business sayin’ things like that—heof all men. A rake, a man known for ruin and recklessness, for leavin’ hearts shattered and stories behind him like broken glass. And yet?—
The way he said it wasn’t teasing. It wasn’t the smooth charm she’d expected, the kind that came easy to men like him. It wasquiet. Rough. As if the truth had clawed its way out of him against his will.
Her pulse thudded in her throat. She wanted to look away, to laugh it off, to throw the words back with some sharp remark and end the moment before it became something she couldn’t escape. But she couldn’t.
Because he was looking at her like she was the only thing in the room.
“That’s…” she began, her voice breaking before she caught it, the heat crawling up her neck. “That’s a dangerous thing tae say….”
Even as she said it, her chest ached with the knowledge that she wanted him to say more.
“Aye.” He gave a faint, humorless smile. “It is.”
“Ye should maybe keep such thoughts tae yerself. Especially considerin’ who me braither is.”
“I ken.” His voice was rough, stripped of its usual steadiness. “But it daesnae change that it’s true.”
She searched his face, waiting for the smirk, the teasing edge that usually softened his sharp words, but it never came. He was entirely serious. It was maddening.
Catherine drew herself up, forcing her tone to stay level even as her heart hammered against her ribs. “Then maybe ye should try harder tae forget whatever it is ye think ye hear.”
“I’ve been tryin’.”
He said it simply, quietly, as though confessing something he hadn’t meant to say aloud. The sound of it stole the words from her tongue. Catherine’s pulse thudded in answer.
