The thought continued to fester, burning hot until his chest tightened. Until his knuckles whitened. Then he exhaled, as though reminding himself to always focus on the target.
It was hard to admit, but his cousins were innocent. The oldest had been a baby when his uncle had usurped the title.
Ye cannae force it.Ye cannae force hatred where it doesnae belong.
His hand loosened. The anger had faded, replaced by exhaustion. He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze drifting away from his cousins.
She was not there.
Sorcha.
That realization evoked mixed feelings. Relief and disappointment. And it was enough to bring him back to his senses.
He had no business seeking her out at this hour. None at all. He should turn back now. Go to his chamber. Drink. Sleep. Forget?—
“Is that the Laird?”
He froze.
His body reacted long before his mind did. His breath caught in his lungs, as though he had been struck.
That voice… he would recognize it anywhere. Clear. Strong. Wrapped in something warm that slid under his skin far too easily.
And then there was the scent. Soft. Familiar. The same one that haunted his nights.
William turned slowly to find Sorcha standing a few steps away, beams of moonlight falling over her like a blessing.
She stared back at him as if he were not real, as if he might vanish if she blinked. Her hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders, the red hue contrasting with her pale skin.
His eyes lowered slightly, taking note of her nightgown, which made his throat turn dry. The fabric wrapped around her body enticingly. The material was too thin, barely shielding her erect nipples, barely covering her mound. It revealed more than it hid, stirring memories he had no right to revisit.
Before he could help it, his fingers curled again. Not with anger this time, but with restraint.
Shite.
Distance had done nothing. The few days he had spent away from the castle were almost useless. If anything, it had made his longing worse.
Her brown eyes were searching his face, wide and bright. Her lips parted slightly, as if she meant to speak but had forgotten how or what to say.
He saw everything. Even the way her chest rose with slow, deep breaths. And he wanted it. Desired it.
Before he could do something stupid, he straightened, schooling his features into something more neutral. Something safe. But his body did not listen. His heart was still pounding as hard as ever.
She was devastating. Too tempting. And once again, painful realization dawned on him.
Staying away from her would always be useless, because wanting her was no longer a choice.
In the silence, Sorcha blinked slowly, as though pulling herself back from a place far away.
“When did ye return?” she asked softly.
Her voice was not loud. It didn’t need to be. It would reach him anyway, slide under his skin with ease.
William opened his mouth to answer, but then he stopped. Something about her was… off.
He studied her more closely now, allowing himself the indulgence he had denied since turning around.
Her eyes seemed to glow brighter tonight. Not with something warmer, but with something looser. Something more carefree. Moonlight stroked her face, making her beauty even more ethereal.
