Her breath caught. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
She should wrap up the dance. Should thank Colin properly, make polite excuses, act like a lady rather than a woman desperate to answer that silent summons.
But her body was already responding, already moving before her mind caught up.
“Thank ye for the dance, Colin,” she said, her voice breathless. “But I… I should go. The Laird…” she trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence. Not sure what excuse would make sense.
But Colin, sweet and oblivious, just smiled and bowed. “Of course, me Lady. It was an honor.”
He released her, and Leona felt suddenly untethered.
The music still played, couples still danced, but she heard none of it. Saw none of it. There was only Murdock, standing in the shadows at the edge of the square, waiting. For her.
She moved toward him, weaving through the dancers, her pulse quickening with every step. People called out to her, greetings, well-wishes, invitations, but she barely registered them.
All her focus was on him. On the way, his eyes never left hers. On the tension radiating from his powerful frame. On the promise in his stare.
When she finally reached him, when she stood close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, he didn’t speak. Didn’ttouch her, though she could see his hands flexing at his sides, could see the restraint it cost him.
“Ye called?” Her voice came out huskier than intended.
“Aye.” The single word was rough, weighted with need. “Walk with me.”
Again, not a request. A command wrapped in barely maintained civility.
Leona should refuse. Should remind him they were in public, that people were watching, that disappearing together would cause talk. But she nodded instead, helpless to resist.
“Where?” she managed.
His eyes darkened, pupils dilating until only a ring of amber remained. “Somewhere private.”
He turned and walked, not checking to see if she followed. Confident she would.
And God help her, she did.
She followed him away from the light and music, away from the safety of the crowd, into the gathering darkness, where the trees grew thick and the shadows waited.
Her heart hammered so hard she could hear it in her ears. Her skin felt too tight, too warm despite the evening chill. Every nerve ending alive and singing with anticipation.
She knew what this meant. Knew what would happen once they were alone.
And she wanted it. Wanted him. With an intensity that terrified and thrilled her in equal measure.
Behind her, the festival carried on. Music and laughter drifted in the air, distant and dreamlike. She heard Sheena’s voice say something, heard answering chuckles, but the words didn’t register.
Nothing registered except the man ahead of her, leading her deeper into the darkness.
Into whatever came next.
15
The trees closed around Leona like a living wall, blocking out the firelight from the festival until only scattered moonlight remained. The music faded to a distant echo, swallowed by the whisper of leaves and the rush of her own breathing.
She paused, looking around. The forest was darker than she’d expected, shadows pooling thick between the trunks. Murdock had disappeared ahead of her, his dark form swallowed by the night.
“Murdock?” she called softly, stepping deeper into the trees. Her eyes struggled to adjust, and every rustle made her heart jump. “Where are ye?”
Silence. Only the wind through branches and her own pulse thundering in her ears.
