He held her gaze. “Goodnight, Kristen.”
She shifted one foot, then the other.
Move, she told herself.
She did not move.
Neil drew a slow breath. “That sound was a guard,” he said quietly, as if the words could ease the tension in the air. “He willnae trouble ye.”
“I ken.”
A beat passed.
“I daenae like folks waiting outside doors when I am nae ready for them,” she admitted, hating the small quiver in the truth.
His hands clenched at his sides. “I will speak to them. They will keep a wider distance at night.”
“Thank ye.”
“Kristen.”
She looked back. “Aye?”
“If we hold the cèilidh in five days instead of three, would ye mind?”
“Nay,” she replied. “As long as it is soon, before rumors snowball.”
“If anyone speaks about ye, I will end it,” he vowed.
Her chin rose. “Ye will letmeend it. I have a tongue; I can use it.”
His eyes darkened, making her cheeks flush all over again. “Aye, ye can.”
“Daenae look at me like that,” she huffed.
“I am trying nae to look at ye at all,” he drawled. “It isnae going well.”
She fought a smile that felt too close to surrender. “Then stop trying.” She turned on her heel so he would not see the heat spread to her chest.
Her steps toward the doors felt heavy and too fast all at once. She kept her head up and her expression neutral. The mess on the floor crunched under her shoes.
She thought of the moment he had braced his hands on the table and asked if she would stop him. She thought of what she had begged for. Heat shot straight to her core, and she had to breathe slowly to quell it.
Behind her, Neil said nothing, but she could feel his gaze between her shoulder blades like a warm hand. She forced herself not to look back. She put her palm on the cool wood of the door and pulled it open. The hall breathed, and she breathed with it.
Tonight, she would sleep.
She must.
In a few days, they would have a hall full of people, a piper by the fire, and a laird who would stand before them in truth. She had asked for that truth, and she would hold to it, even if her hands shook.
“In case I am asleep,” she repeated in a whisper, “goodnight.”
This time, she did not wait for an answer. She slipped outside and gently pulled the door shut. The corridor lay dim ahead of her, and her heart beat like a fist on wood that would not open.
Tonight, she would sleep. Even if her body still vividly remembered every kiss and caress.
Neil lay on his back and stared at the dark rafters. The hall lived behind his eyes, the scrape of chairs, the click of the doors, the heat of Kristen standing too close.
