“If I come at ye from this angle, ’tis best if ye use yer knee to kick me in the groin.”
“Nae!” she exclaimed, horrified.
“Ye canna have mercy, lass. Yer life could depend on it. Now, here, dinna—
She jerked up her knee and smashed it into his groin. She threw her hands to her mouth as he went down.
After that, he avoided her kicks, knowing theywould come.
Later, Ismay sat on the wide stump of a tree in the yard behind the castle. Before her, about ten feet away, the Lochiel lifted a heavy axe and brought it down on a piece of wood making it two in one clean strike. Several times she found her gaze settled comfortably on him while he worked.
Sleek muscles in his arms danced and glistened under the autumn sun while he brought the axe down. She blushed twice as many times when he caught her staring at him with dreams in her eyes. Dreams of things she had thought were impossible. Dreams she had never dared allow herself to dream before, like, kissing a man’s lips and enjoying it. Was it possible? Dreams of laughing with him, lying in bed with him. And other things she didn’t allow herself to ponder too long else she might burst into flames.
It had been a wee bit over a sennight since Constantine Cameron brought her here to Tor Castle. At first, she was convinced that she had to leave. Now, she was not sure she could go. Nothing but her own head and heart were holding her prisoner.
She had made friends, mainly with Joan and Hilary MacDonald—soon to marry a member of the enemy Chattan Confederation. Bethia was kind to her, but for some reason, Constantine kept her from tending to Ismay. Of course, Lachlan and Fionn were always friendly and pleasant. Geoffry kept to himself most of the time and when Lewis was not at the Doomsday Inn and Tavern, he was always somewhere nearby, seemingly ready to trounce anyone into the nearest wall for speaking ill of the Lochiel.
Ever since he’d been warned by Lewis, Hugh was cautious about what he said and whom he said it to.
But the one who made Ismay want to stay at Tor, despite her fear of someone from her past finding her, was the Lochiel. She was more surprised than anyone else would be if they knew her past and how she was beginning to feel about her protector.
The way his gaze grew warm on her when she laughed, and theway he gave in to her every whim—even those whims he did not agree with, drew her to sink deeper, find a closer place within him, and never let go.
Could she go to a convent and live a life trying to forget this virile man? Would God not reject her for her covetousness? Could she stay here and ever be happy with a clan chief?
“Lady,” he called out, dark eyes on her free of his hair, neatly tied at his nape.
He called her “lady” as if he knew who her father was. She prayed he didn’t know. Among the MacDonald clan, they knew it had been a MacPherson’s bairn who had murdered their chief. Constantine could not find out. She had told him she was a murderer. She should have included being a fool to her confession. What if he had guessed the truth? He was clever.
He went to her, setting the axe against the tree stump. “What is it that darkens yer countenance?”
She smiled, trying to forget her worrisome thoughts. “I always knew what my future would look like. Me, unwed and happy living at home with my father, and then it became me, living hidden behind convent walls. Now…”
He knelt before her. “Now—?”
Should she confess even more? She felt as if she was a geyser ready to blow. She had not told anyone what she felt or what she thought in months. Now Constantine Cameron knew.
She gazed into the chief’s eyes. She wanted to tell this man. “I dinna know what my future looks like anymore. I dinna know what is best fer me, or if I even care if ’tis good fer me or not.”
She didn’t realize she wanted him to say something reassuring like, stay here with me behind my castle walls. When he said nothing, it trumpeted much. He didn’t want the same thing she wanted. He was not over his wife.
“Mayhap,” she began, “I do know and that is what isdarkening my face.”
He stood up. “Ye are still considerin’ leavin.”
“Should I not?”
He looked down at her and then looked up and away at the castle turret looming overhead. “I’m goin’ home soon. I have things to get in order.”
She stared at him.…His home. He did not want her to tag along.
She swallowed back a rush of emotion and disappointment. She would not stand in his way then.
Nodding, she let him know she understood, then laughed softly. “My belly just cried out fer food. I told Hilary I would eat with her.” She leaped off the stump and hurried away before she was tempted to beg him to stay by her side. She had no right to expect more from him than what he had already given her.
She would never forget him. No matter if she spent the rest of her life in a convent, or if she was killed on the road by some madman. She would carry her memories of the Cameron Lochiel, her protector, with her. He was the first man in her life she ever let her heart beat for.
She felt tears spill over the rims of her eyes and swiped them away. When she could see clearly, she saw Bethia in her path.
