“My land, my people, that’s cause enough to fight against injustice. You can’t tell me you haven’t done it yourself.”
“True enough.”
“I imagine you’ve even stepped outside the law on occasion.”
“A necessary evil,” he admitted, “as now.”
“You do realize you take your life in your hands by residing among outlaws.”
Burke shrugged. “I am not known here in your country and I do not plan on remaining here. I hope to convince Cullen to return with me.”
“No desire to remain in Scotland?” she asked, wondering why she would even think he would give credence to such a thought.
“My home is the Dakota Territory. I miss it even now.”
“I feel the same,” she admitted. “There’s no way I’d leave Scotland.”
They sat silent for a moment, both digesting their declarations and both wondering why they felt disturbed by the news.
Burke broke the silence. “When Janelle says he’s able, I’d like to speak with Peter.”
“A good idea,” Storm agreed, anxious to move away from the fact that while they were much alike, she and Burke were also worlds apart. “You may be able to learn something that might determine if the man removed from prison was your brother.”
“I thought the same myself, though I know so little of my brother,” Burke said with sorrow.
“He could resemble your father. Do you?”
Burke grinned. “My father often commented that I was spared his features and lucky to have my mother’s good looks.”
“So you have no idea what your brother looks like?”
“Not a hint, which is what makes this search all the more difficult,” he admitted.
“Difficult, but not impossible,” Storm encouraged.
“You really do enthrall me.”
“You, Mr. Longton, continually stun me.”
“My honesty can do that at times, but then at least you know who you deal with, and damn if I don’t love the way my name rolls off your tongue in that thick Scottish burr of yours.”
“Pardon if I don’t find my name sounding as titillating on your tongue. Your American accent is a bit harsh on the ears.”
He laughed and attempted to pronounce her name with a Scottish burr. It wasn’t long before they both were laughing.
“I prefer your American accent. It does less damage to my name,” Storm said after calming her laughter.
“It was worth a try,” he said and reached out his fingers to her chin.
She pulled away, uncertain of his intentions.
“No, no,” he urged, holding his hand steady. “You have a piece of fish—”
She let him dust the piece from the corner of her mouth, a light dusting as if he barely touched her, and yet he left his mark. He stirred her senses and sent a shiver through her though she concealed her reaction, remaining perfectly still.
“You haven’t known a man’s touch in some time, have you?” he asked, his hand drifting off her.
“Storm!”
