She shivered. Her attempted escape had far greater repercussions than she’d realized.
She’d never seen him disciplining his men, and it was more than a little intimidating. His expression was hard and implacable, and his voice resounded with absolute authority. To his people he was lord, master, judge, and jury all in one. Her mother was right. A Highland chief was like a king of his own small fiefdom. Such absolute power was disconcerting, making Flora realize just how vulnerable she was. If he’d wanted to, he could have done almost anything to her—forced her to marry him, ravaged her, imprisoned her—and no one would have lifted a finger. It took a strong man to hold such power, know when to wield it, and do so nobly and with honor.
She didn’t think he’d noticed her standing atop the forestairs, but as soon as the men had dispersed, he pinned her with his gaze. Heated awareness rippled through her, and then a deluge of powerful emotion and all that had happened that night came back to her in full force. She could remember everything.
The first glimpse of him on the beach. The surge of hope that had given her strength to keep fighting as water poured into the skiff. Watching him swim toward her, the powerful strokes cutting across the heavy current. Knowing how hard he’d fought to reach her in time. Hearing his voice. The steady, soothing tones that had staved off panic as the boat finally succumbed to the waves and tried to take her with it. The comfort of knowing that he was out there as the water dragged her under. Holding on to the image of his face before blackness overtook her.
She remembered everything.
The raw intensity of his kiss when he’d pulled her from her watery death. How she’d felt in his arms. How safe. How protected.How right.
And then later, waking to find him beside her. The gentle warmth that seemed a balm to her soul. Reaching for him. The erotic sensation of his naked body molded to hers. His hands on her skin. Her breasts pressed against his chest. His powerful, muscular legs entwined with hers.
He’s a very virile man.Seonaid’s words rang in her head like a taunt. Yes. She’d felt evidence of that snuggled up against her. He wanted her. Yet from his leman’s words, Flora gleaned that he hadn’t been visiting Seonaid. The relief she felt upon learning that told her much. But how much longer would he wait?
Finished with his men, Lachlan strode purposefully across the courtyard and up the stairs. The timber shook with the angry force of his step. She took a few steps back, not knowing what to expect. Would she be punished as well? She swallowed hard against the sudden lump in her throat.
“Get back to—” He stopped himself, then continued more gently. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”
Flora lifted her brow at his attempt to curtail his natural proclivity toward issuing orders. “I’m feeling much better,” she assured him.
He pretended not to hear her, took her elbow, and steered her right back into the keep. So much for the attempts at niceties, she thought. The new leaf hadn’t lasted long.
She halted outside the great hall and tried to shrug off his hold. “Really. I’m fine.”
His gaze narrowed. She yearned to wipe away the frown with a caress of her hand, wanting him to look at her the way he had that night. Softly, and with tenderness in his gaze.
“You almost drowned and then nearly froze to death. You lost consciousness for hours. You need to rest.”
He was concerned about her. The realization settled over her like a warm, fuzzy plaid. Perhaps she could forgive his heavy-handedness—this time. Putting her hand on his arm, she said softly, “I’m fine. Please, I’d like to speak with you.”
He held her gaze, as if to assure himself that she spoke true. Finally, he nodded and led her through to the laird’s solar behind the great hall. The place where she’d nearly succumbed…
She shook off the memories. “I couldn’t help overhearing some of what you said out there.” She bit her lip, uncertain of how to proceed. It was because of her that those men were being punished. She had to do something. “Is imprisonment really necessary for those men? They were only turned away for an instant, and they weren’t expecting anyone to leave.”
He closed the door behind him and turned to her, his expression hard and impenetrable. “Too barbaric for you, Flora?”
She heard the bitter undertone and knew he’d misread her intent. She’d accused him of such, but no longer. “No, of course not,” she said hastily. “I just—”
“You think I like punishing my men? I’ve known most of them since they were lads. But no one may pass through the gate in either direction without being seen. No one. The men who allowed you to do so must be punished. Standing guard is one of the most important facets to the security of a keep. Need I explain to you the importance? Any lapse could leave us vulnerable to attack. Two days in the dungeon will be unpleasant, a hard lesson, but they will not be harmed. The alternative is flogging. Would you have me do that?”
She shook her head miserably. “No, of course not.”
He paused to study her face. “I think it’s not whether the punishment is justified that bothers you, but the reason for it.”
He was right. She was feeling guilty for her part in the debacle. She understood that he did not have a choice, there had to be consequences for such a serious breach. And from the vehemence of his reply, it was clear he did not relish the prospect. But he was chief. He had to make the difficult decisions and enforce them—even if he didn’t like it. That was part of his strength, she realized.
“Am I to be punished as well, then?”
She saw the spark of surprise in his gaze. He cleared his throat and turned away from her, focused on the cold fireplace. “I think you have been punished enough.”
There was something in his voice that gave her pause, a depth of emotion that hit her square in the chest. Her hand still rested on his arm. She took a step closer. “Thank you.”
He glanced down at her uncertainly.
“Thank you,” she repeated, “for what you did. Saving me from drowning.” Her cheeks warmed. “And what you did to warm me.”
His wide mouth lifted at one side, a strangely boyish look that made her chest squeeze.
