That kiss had been… God. She didn’t even have the words, didn’t know what was coursing through her. Longing? Surely, she couldn’t be longing for him, not when he was constantly driving her completely mad.
“I—forgive me,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I was lost… in reverie.”
“What?”
Eilidh didn’t know what kind of reverie made a man hide among a bunch of mostly unused blades, emerge as though something had set him on fire, and thenkiss her?
But there were no answers forthcoming, because no sooner had the question made it past her lips than Ciaran turned on his heel and all but fled.
“What in the hell was that?” Eilidh asked the empty air, slumping against the wall that she’d beenpinnedagainst only a moment before. Pinned so that Ciaran Gunn couldkissher.
Her hand floated to her lips, which felt bruised and swollen, even from the brief embrace between them. He’d kissed her like he was starving for it, and it had woken a new hunger in her, too. She wanted more. She wantedhim.
She dropped her head so she could rub the bridge of her nose. Maybe, if she was very lucky, this would rearrange her brains properly.
Because she wasn’t supposed to be doing this any longer! She wasn’t supposed to be writing stories in her mind about what could be. She needed to keep her feet firmly on the ground.
And the facts were these: he had kissed her. He had stolen her breath, made her heart race, made her knees threaten to crumple beneath her. And yes, maybe she’d let herself indulge in a few moments of wanting to believe that there could be something between them, something more than her playing nurse before he left the keep and her life forever. Maybe a kiss between them made that dream seem a good deal more real.
But he hadleft.
That was the truest part. He’d run away from her.
And men didn’t do that if they had good intentions. They didn’t do that if they intended to make a life with a girl.
They ran when they were ashamed of their actions. When they regretted what they’d done.
She clung to that idea, clutched it tight until it hurt as much as possible. She needed to remember that hurt. Possibly it wouldfinallykeep her from letting her imagination get the better of her.
She was just about to walk away from the armory when something glinting on the floor caught her eye.
With a frown, she bent and retrieved a shard of… Why was there a piece of looking glass on the ground of the armory? She glanced around, as though a looking glass might suddenly appear in a room that was packed to the rafters with weapons.
Many, many things were here, but no mirrors.
There was, of course, always a chance that it was just a coincidence. Goodness knew that plenty of clansmen trekked through this space every day.
But instinct made her wonder. Was this strange piece of glass somehow related to the equally strange reaction that Ciaran had shown when she’d arrived at the armory? Was there something more to Ciaran Gunn than he wanted his supposed allies to believe?
Unease overtook her. Was this why he’d kissed her? Because of… whatever he’d been doing in here?
She slipped the shard of mirror into her pocket, not even entirely certain why she was doing so. It was just instinct.
Or maybe it was a reminder. Because, no matter how many times she told herself otherwise, all that she could think was that Ciaran Gunn hadkissed her. And no matter how rational she tried to be, no matter how many suspicious thoughts flickered through her mind.
She found that she still wanted more.
8
The clouds were roiling, like a pot set to boil, the angry gray bubbles fighting to overcome the easy, drifting white that lurked beneath. It would rain hard at least once over the coming days, the kind of soaking deluge that drove everyone indoors but which rejuvenated the earth and the crops. Eilidh had seen those kinds of clouds more times than she could count from her bedroom window at Castle Dubh-Gheal. From the castle’s perch atop the cliffs, she’d been able to see storms that raged miles out to sea.
She missed her home. She missed it desperately.
“Daydreaming again?”
Eilidh startled at Ailsa’s question, then offered a sheepish smile to her sister through the reflection in the darkened window.
“Nay,” Eilidh insisted, squaring her shoulders and turning to face her sister. “Just thinking about how the crofters will be affected by the rain that those clouds promise to bring.”
