“’ Twas a fine night for a battle,” Sinclair was saying, a crackling fire burned in the hearth, and the three of them gathered around a little wooden table, sipping spiced mead. His uncle was paying him and Ellie no notice. Aidam wished he could disappear into a story of youthful war and killing like his uncle, avoiding the doe-eyed beauty that sat across from them with a warm smile on her face. Or was it whisky his uncle was disappearing into? It was hard to tell. Ellie was as difficult to read. How could she not feel the awkwardness of the moment? Especially after what happened between them at the loch.
Look at how she smiles when she takes a sip. Lord above, there’s little a man wouldnae do for a smile like that. The way her skin flushes with pleasure, the way she…
His thoughts trailed off as he felt a stare and snapped his eyes away from Ellie. Laird Sinclair was watching him with narrowed eyes.
Aidam cleared his throat. “Is everything quite all right, Uncle?” he asked, feigning his usual aloof cheerfulness. “Ye’re looking at me as though I have something in me teeth.”
Laird Sinclair smiled faintly. “Ye seemed quite entranced with me wife-to-be, Aidam,” he replied. “I suppose she has something inherteeth?”
Curse it. I thought I was more subtle.
“I’m surprised she lasted so well in the rain last night,” he lied. “The delicate lassie I remember from me youth wouldnae have weathered it, tent or no tent.”
“The delicate lassie ye kent from yer youth barely weatheredye,but it looks like we must learn to get along,” Ellie snapped back. It was an insult, but he saw a sparkle in her eyes as she said it, and he had to bite back a grin. It would be significantly easier to be rid of his attraction to her if she would stop being clever and witty as well as bonny.
Laird Sinclair looked between them, then, in what Aidam thought was a rather unsubtle move, took Ellie’s hand between his own. “Are ye looking forward to seeing yer new home, love?” he asked her.
Aidam flinched, unsuccessful at pushing down his irritation. Worse, Ellie smiled sunnily at his uncle, looking every part of the blushing bride, just as she was supposed to. As if she hadn’t kissed him back! As if he hadn’t seen her in the dawn by the loch at her own doing…
“I am,” Ellie replied, and he thought he could see the relief in her expression at the subject moving on. Yet, she quickly masked her face with a sweet smile directed only at the Laird. Had what happened between them really not bothered her? How could she not be thinking as much of him as he was of her? Sinclair gave him a strange look. If Aidam didn’t know any better, he would think the man was issuing some sort of challenge. This was ludicrous.
Aidam stood, excusing himself. He was beyond annoyed—not at Ellie—athimself.Yes, he wanted her, but she was not the only woman in the world, and any other lass would be more available and interested than she was.
Worse, his uncle had noticedsomething.Aidam wasn’t sure what, if anything, Laird Sinclair suspected, but he could feel the man’s gaze still.
He closed the door, leaving the betrothed couple alone to talk, ignoring the wrenching feeling he felt in his gut at doing so, and he headed off to bed. Tomorrow, they’d reach the keep. He could get back to his life, and Ellie would no longer be his problem.
