“Get away from me!” Her body burned as she let out the harsh words, and she lifted a hand to push him further away, though his chest was hot against her touch, his heartbeat erratic.
“Don’t ever try that again,” she warned, hating how she trembled for him, and how her lips craved more of his kisses.
He met her gaze, and she expected some sort of fight from him, but he simply dropped his hands to his sides and then nodded.
“I apologize,” Killian said in a solemn voice and hung his head. “I shouldnae have done that. It was wrong, and I am sorry.”
Did he just apologize?
Lily was speechless again, but she hid that behind her anger and kept her blazing gaze on his.
“I willnae do it again… Nae unless ye want me to.”
His last statement left her reeling with a renewed need to feel his lips on hers again. The heat spiked through her, teased her senses, and warmed her to the core.
“That is never going to happen!” she countered with vehemence. “You will die waiting.”
Killian turned away from her and walked to the door. “We should head on. I doubt either of us will get any sleep tonight, anyway. I shall be outside the inn.”
Lily cupped her cheeks with both hands once she was alone, and she blew air through her lips, hoping to douse the flame burning in her.
Why did he kiss me?
And most importantly, what sort of madness had made her kiss him back, and enjoy it so much?
In McLennan Castle, chaos raged. Duncan marched out of the dungeons with his men, still livid and boiling with red, hot fury.
“M’laird, we received word,” his general said to him as he rushed towards him and bowed. “Our men found two dead men far off from the castle on a path riding east. They were dressed the same way as the man we captured.”
Duncan simply nodded as they relayed the information to him. He turned to his friend, Arran, who had stood by his side throughout the interrogation. Arran now knew everything Duncan knew as well.
“Have our men bring back their bodies. I know what we must do.”
“Do ye ken who sent them now?” his man-at-arms asked, but Duncan was not ready to answer yet, so he shook his head.
After dismissing him, he strode to his study with Arran. A few moments later, Yvaine and his mother, Elspeth, walked in with Amelia perched on both their arms.
Amelia’s eyes were red and puffy from crying. Seeing his wife in sorrow broke Duncan’s heart. He never wanted to see her that way.
Or see her hurt.
He was dedicated to providing for her in every way.
“Did ye find anythin’?” Yvaine asked in a trembling voice. “Who has Lily?”
“Laird MacColl,” Arran announced as Duncan nursed his anger and made plans in his head. “The man confessed. Laird MacColl did not just send men to invade our castle. He came here himself.”
“He was after ye, Yvaine,” Duncan added as he met his sister’s gaze.
“Me?” Yvaine flushed. “Why? Did they say what he wants?”
Duncan shook his head. “He took Lily by mistake, and he must have realized now that he has the wrong person. He will get desperate soon enough. I shall find them, and I will bring Lily back. Ye have naethin’ to worry about, I promise.”
Duncan did not know this Laird MacColl in person, or what his plans were, but he had never forgiven any crime committed against his family or those he held dear, and this was no different.
I will find the man and put an end to this.
“Laird MacColl,” Amelia murmured in a strained voice as he walked over to hug her. “What did you ever do to him?”
