But lookingat Ewan's carefully controlled expression, at the tension still visible in his shoulders, at the way his hands had curled into fists at his sides, Maia suspected there was more to it than simple manipulation.
He'd wantedto kiss her. He'd said as much.
And she'd wantedhim to kiss her.
The rest,the lies about Mollie, the strategic revelation of the truth, that was just Ewan being a laird. Being a warrior. Usingwhatever tools were at his disposal to maintain control of his prisoner.
"Get some rest, lass,"Ewan said, his voice carefully neutral once more. "We leave soon."
He returned to his chair,settling into it with his back to her once again.
Maia lay back down,pulling the blanket up to her chin with shaking hands. Her mind was spinning, her emotions a chaotic mess she couldn't begin to untangle.
Mollie was alive.
Ewan had kissed her.
She'd kissed him back.
And God help her,she wanted him to do it again.
10
"Wake up lass. We need to go."
The morning sunwas already climbing high when Ewan finally stirred from his uncomfortable position in the chair. His neck ached, his back protested every movement, and his legs had gone numb somewhere around the third hour of his vigil.
Worth it,he told himself firmly. Better a stiff neck than the alternative, climbing into that bed with Maia and discovering exactly how little control he actually possessed.
The kiss had been a mistake.A spectacular, earth-shattering, completely irresponsible mistake that had left him harder than iron and aching in ways he hadn't experienced since he was a green lad of fifteen.
He'd tasted her.Had felt her soft body yield beneath his hands. Had heard those breathy little sounds she'd made when his tongue had swept into her mouth.
And now he knew.Knew what she tasted like, knew how she responded to his touch, knew that beneath all that fire and defiance was a woman who burned just as hot as he did.
Ewan rana hand over his face and glanced toward the bed. Maia was still asleep, curled on her side facing the wall, her brown hair spilling across the pillow in tangled waves. The blanket had slipped down during the night, revealing the curve of her shoulder beneath the thin shift.
He forcedhimself to look away.
They needed to leave.Soon. The longer they stayed here, the more time MacMahon had to organize pursuit. And the more time Ewan spent in close quarters with Maia, the harder it became to remember why touching her again was a terrible idea.
Maia stirred,making a small sound of protest before her eyes fluttered open. For a moment, she looked disoriented, confused about where she was.
Then memory clearly returned,her gaze found him across the room, and her cheeks flushed pink.
"Good mornin',"she said quietly, pulling the blanket up higher.
"Mornin'."Ewan stood, stretching out his protesting muscles. "Get dressed. We're leavin' within the hour."
"Dressed in what?"Maia gestured to herself. "I'm still only wearin' me shift."
Bloody hell.He'd meant to arrange for proper clothing last night, but the kiss had scrambled his thoughts, and he'd forgotten entirely.
"We'll stopat the village up ahead," he said. "Get ye somethin' suitable. There's nay seamstress in this village. But we need to go now, I want to cover as much ground as possible before midday."
Maia noddedand climbed out of bed, wrapping his cloak around herself once more. She wouldn't meet his eyes, he noticed, probably remembering exactly what had happened between them last night.
Good.Let her be uncomfortable. It would make the ride easier if she weren't chattering away about every bloody bird they passed.
