"Bonnie," he whispered.
He lingered by the door, unwilling to break the quiet peace that surrounded her. The harsh words he had prepared to scold her with seemed foolish now, paling against the sight of her sleeping so soundly.
Stepping closer, his eyes traced the curve of her lashes against her skin, the faint flush of warmth in her cheeks. A tenderness he rarely allowed himself stirred, and he could not help but reach down.
The back of his hand brushed against her cheek, light as the drift of a feather. Her skin was warm beneath his touch, and his heart gave a strange twist at the feel of it. She stirred faintly, lips parting, but did not wake. For a brief instant he wished she would, wished those eyes would open and look at him with something other than stubbornness.
Instead, she breathed his name in a soft, dreamy whisper, and the sound of it near undid him.
"Caiden…?" she said.
He bent his head, close enough to feel the warmth of her breath.
"Shhh, lass," he murmured, his voice low, "I'll get ye to yer bed."
She shifted at the sound, sighing, and it made him feel as though she trusted him utterly.
With careful arms, he lifted her from the chair, her body light and warm against him. Her head fell easily against his shoulder, and she nuzzled her face into his chest with a soft, contented moan.
The small sound struck him harder than he expected, lodging itself in his chest where his anger had once been. He held her closer, steadying his steps as though she was the most fragile treasure he'd ever carried.
Through the quiet corridors of the castle he walked, the hush of the night wrapping round them both.
He thought of how fiercely she fought him when she was awake, and yet here she lay with no guard, her trust unspoken but clear. Something in him shifted then, deeper than anger, deeper than duty.
When he reached her bedchamber, he nudged the door open with his shoulder and carried her inside. He lowered her to the bed as though setting down a thing too precious to bruise, lettingher head sink into the pillow. She stirred again, half asleep still, but he hushed her softly. Drawing a blanket over her, he tucked it around her with surprising gentleness, ensuring no draft could touch her.
The hearth stood cold, and he would not leave her to the chill. He bent to the fire, striking flint until the flames sparked to life, casting warmth into the dim chamber. Watching the glow spread, he glanced once more at the bed where she lay, her breathing even and soft. A strange ache tugged at him.
At the door he paused.
Ye deserve a moment of joy, of respite for all I have put ye through. And tomorrow night, I shall give ye just that.
His eyes softened as they rested on her sleeping form, and his voice dropped to a whisper meant only for her.
"Sleep well, lass."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The following night, Maisie stood before the tall mirror, her chemise falling soft against her frame, the firelight painting her skin in a warm glow. She brushed out her long hair, trying to settle her restless thoughts after a long day of avoiding Caiden.
Just as she reached to snuff the last candle by her bed, the heavy door swung open without warning. She gasped, clutching at the thin fabric, her heart leaping to her throat.
Caiden filled the doorway like a storm, his eyes dark as they swept over her. His gaze roamed from her hair, tumbling loose down her back, to the bare length of her legs that the sheer chemise did little to hide.
Heat rose in Maisie's cheeks, her fingers curling tighter into the cloth as if it might shield her. His silence was worse than words, for it left her trembling under the weight of his stare.
"Ye've nay right to barge in here," Maisie said, her voice unsteady, though she fought to make it sharp. "I'm nae decent for company, as ye plainly see."
Caiden's lips curved in a dangerous half-smile. "Decent or nay, lass, ye'll follow me."
Her mouth fell open, astonishment tangling with fury. "Follow ye? In this? Are ye daft, man? I'm near bare, and ye've the gall to order me about?"
He stepped closer, his boots heavy on the rushes, his eyes never leaving her face though she felt his attention burn along her body. "Ye think I care for such excuses? I told ye, ye'll come. Now."
Maisie's breath hitched, her chest rising against the thin linen as her anger sparked into something far more dangerous. "I'll nae be dragged about like a hound. I said I'll nae go, and I mean it."
His laugh was low, edged with impatience, and yet there was something else in it, something that made her pulse quicken. "Ye've a sharp tongue, lass. Daenae think it'll spare ye."
