An impatient sound bursts from him. “Och, I’m not looking for the cook. I came foryou.You’re avoiding me, I think.”
“No,” I lie. “Not avoiding you.” My voice is tight,strangely overcome by emotion. I avoided him. But he still found me.
“Then where’ve you been?How’veyou been?”
He’s obviously just looking out for me. Checking in. I’m alone in a dangerous and foreign place, and he feels responsible for Donag’s actions.
How have I been?I want to look at him. Lean on him. Tell him everything. How I’m quaking with exhaustion by the time I crawl into my cot every night. How my stomach is one continuous hunger cramp. How despair is a never-ending weight on my chest.
My throat has ached constantly from an ocean of dammed-up tears, yet all Callum has to do is sit next to me, and my walls crack faster than spring ice.
I scoot away. Clear my throat. “I’d like to go home.”
“Aye.” He slumps against the table. “For certain you do. I’m trying. I’ll make this right. I swear it. I learned how to find the isle—the one I told you about. I’m not yet knowing the exact magic we’ll need, but I’ve an idea who to ask. And I mean to ask. It’s simply”—he drags a hand through his hair—“my time is nae always my own.”
Of course he’s helping me. Probably spending every free moment trying.
“I know it’ll take time.” I give my food a stir, but the scent turns my stomach. I let go of my spoon. “I get that.”
“Then why are you angry? Is it because I let you tend my wound?” He curses himself under his breath. “That’s it, isn’t it? ’Twas inappropriate of me to let a lass like you lower yourself on my account.”
“That’s ridiculous.” My gaze flicks to his, just for a second, before jumping away. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Then what is the matter? You can tell me.” He pitches his voice to a pained whisper. “Please, Rosie.”
I pick up my spoon again, scraping at the side of my bowl, pushing the gravy into an oily puddle. Because why does he have to call me that? This new nickname, in his voice. It’s kryptonite.
Every nerve in my body crackles to life as Callum’s fingers wrap around mine. Gently, he guides my hand, setting my spoon aside. But he doesn’t let go.
I can tell he won’t until I meet his eyes.
A vital energy hums from him. I try to ignore it, but something deep inside me recognizes it. Wants to react.
My gaze lifts to his as surely as the sun rises in the sky.
He releases a shaky breath. “Has anyone given you trouble?” His expression matches his voice. A little broken, a little dark.
How can I create distance when there’s this force between us, drawing us together?
No. I’m just tired. Needy. Vulnerable. I need to dig deeper for a little longer. I slide my hand free. “No trouble.”
My skin pulses where he touched me. I flex my fingers, then dig a fist into my thigh.
I wait for him to speak. But he’s silent. Intent. A vibrating force along my side.
I make myself glance up again, and I find him waiting. His focus is complete, consuming.
“Oh, Rosie,” he murmurs, voice a low rasp. “Why do you avoid me?”
He sounds so anguished and earnest.
Irresistible.
It demolishes the last of mybarriers. “It’s just…I’m upset.”
“With me?”
I shrug. “No. Not with you. Or yes. Maybe a little. Well, no. Mostly at everything.”
