"You shouldn't be here," he said roughly.
"Afraid I'll trap you in a compromising situation, Sir Arthur?"
He knew she was teasing, but he was in no mood for games. The lass put far too much store in his honor as a knight. He was a Highlander--he played by his own rules. And right now it was taking everything he had not to teach her a lesson about the limits of a man's restraint.
"Have care what you ask for, Lady Anna. You just might get it." The intensity of his gaze left no doubt of his meaning. "It wasn't me who showed up uninvited toyourchamber."
The tiny pulse at her neck quickened, and a soft flush rose to her cheeks. But her eyes, her beautiful, deep blue eyes, still challenged. "You don't want me, remember?"
He stilled. Every instinct rose up hard inside him. He was one hair's breadth away from proving her wrong.
But something in his expression made her bravado falter, and she bid a hasty retreat. "Besides, it was Squire who wanted to come." She bent down to pet the puppy, who was rolling around on his pallet. "Isn't that right, boy?"
The puppy barked playfully and started digging his head in the plaid.
Oh hell. The blasted dog wasn't playing; he was trying to get at something.
"Off," Arthur said, trying to shoo the troublesome mongrel away. But it was too late. She'd seen it.
"What do you have there?" she said to the dog.
Before Arthur could stop her, Anna pulled the corner of the small piece of parchment the puppy had uncovered from beneath his pallet.
He cursed, wanting to rip it out of her hands, but he forced himself to feign nonchalance. How the hell was he going to explain a map of her father's lands? He knew he'd better think of something.
"It looks like a drawing." She gazed up at him. "Did you do this?" He didn't say anything. She looked at it again, her fingers tracing over the lines of ink etched by the quill. "It's exquisite."
The admiration in her voice affected him more than he wanted it to. He remembered how much his mother had loved the chalk drawings he'd done for her as a boy. Once he'd started training, he no longer had time for such things. Then she'd died, and it no longer mattered.
He shook off the memories. God's blood, the lass had done it again. Distracted him. Instead of figuring out a way to save his skin, he was acting like that cursed beast of hers, lapping up her praise.
"It's nothing," he said sharply.
She looked at him, those far-too-observant eyes taking in more than he wanted her to. He betrayed nothing, his expression implacable, but somehow she sensed his discomfort.
Fortunately, she misinterpreted it. "You need not be embarrassed," she said with a gentle smile, placing her hand on his arm.
Why did she have to be so damned sweet and smile at him like that? His life was uncomplicated. Just the way he liked it. He didn't want to be drawn to her. But her warmth and kindness were impossible to resist.
"I think it's wonderful. The way you captured the countryside ... You have an artist's eye for perspective and detail."
His chest tightened. With relief, he told himself. She obviously thought it only a sketch, and that he was embarrassed to have been caught engaging in such an unwarriorly pastime. He was damned lucky to have just started the map. Although that was why it wasn't in his sporran, where it should have been. But if she turned it over ...
He'd be hard-pressed to find an excuse for the notes he'd made about the number of men, knights, horses, and the stores of weapons.
He cursed his carelessness in not putting the document away properly before he'd gone to the loch. He'd thought to be undisturbed. But he should have known better. It seemed there was no place he could be free of her.
His face was hard as he took a step toward her and held out his hand.
She hesitated--obviously not eager to relinquish the map--and looked at it again, holding it up to the candle he'd placed on the table beside his bed. "What are these marks?"
His stomach dropped, realizing she was seeing the shadow of the writing on the back. He caught her wrist in his hand before she could turn it over.
"Leave it alone, Anna."
Leave me alone.
She gazed up at him, their eyes locking in the flickering candlelight. "I can't." Her words seemed to shock her as much as they had him. A befuddled frown gathered between her brows. "Don't you feel it?"
