“Why should I go with you? What are you doing here?” she demanded. The smile spread a little wider over his face, reaching his dark eyes.
“You already ken why, Mary.”
Oh, there it was again, the sound of her name on his tongue, that spell that seemed to cast a powerful charm across her entire body. She took a step closer to him, her body arching towards him before she could stop herself.
“Come wi’ me,” he repeated himself as he leaned in the doorway, outlined by the cold, glassy light of the moon behind him.
“Where to?”
“Does it matter?”
She chewed her lip. She should have told him to leave, right then and there, that she knew what kind of man he was and that she would never have allowed him anywhere close to her, but she couldn’t. Her hands rested on his open palm for a long moment, feeling the calluses on his fingers, and she could almost feel how they would have felt against her body, how they would have traced out the shape of her and held her close, how rough they would have been, how commanding…
Before she could stop herself, she reached out, and slipped her hand into his.
6
Mary could hear the blood rushing in her ears as she followed him out towards the stables, the moon casting a long ray of light across the grounds of the Keep. Stealing a glance back towards the main building, she half-expected to find people staring down at her and watching her as she made her way after him, but there was nothing, nobody.
Just her. And him. In the quiet of that night, it was as though nobody else existed.
She stared at his hand wrapped around hers, marveling at how big it looked beside her own fingers. She was distinctly aware, all of a sudden, of how easy it would have been for him to just take control of her completely, to push her up against the wall and…
Her heart stuttered in her chest as she imagined it, how he could have taken what he wanted from her. Arran’s words flooded back into her mind, and she slowed, stilling her feet beneath her just as they reached the stables.
He seemed to sense her hesitation, and glanced over his shoulder at her.
“Ye alright, lass?”
She didn’t reply. In truth, she hardly knew the answer herself. She felt as though speaking it out loud would give away something she was not yet ready to share, but she supposed, if she was to trust him, then she should at least tell him what she knew of him.
“I… I heard this isn’t the first time you or your family have turned up at this Keep uninvited,” she replied, finally. He tipped his head to the side, clearly amused.
“Ye’ve been asking after me? My, I’m flattered.”
Her cheeks heated at once.
“That’s not what I meant. I didn’t—I mean, I haven’t.”
He laughed and took her hand once more, guiding her towards the stables. Inside, it was quiet and a little warmer. The horses stood either side of them, most of them asleep, paying them little attention as Kiernan rounded on her.
“I ken that Arran has nae time for me," he replied, lowering his voice. “And I dinnae blame him. After what my father did…”
He shook his head, but he hardly seemed apologetic about it. She searched his face for some sign that he regretted it, some sign that he wished that he could go back and undo everything that had been done, but she didn’t find it.
“So what are you doing here, then?” she asked him. She was distinctly aware, all of a sudden, of how close they were standing. Between the door and the stalls of the stables behind them, there was only a matter of yards, and he stood just a few inches from her. Unlike the last time, when they had been watched over by Arran’s men, it was just the two of them, nobody to interrupt, nobody to stop them.
He stared down at her.
“I could ask ye the same thing,” he replied. “You could have raised the alarm when you saw me in that kitchen. You could have called for yer guards to come and carry me away. But ye didn’t, did you?”
She bit her lip hard. She hated this, but she couldn’t pull herself away. She couldn’t deny how badly her body cried out for him, how deeply the want seemed to get the better of her. She wished she could conjure some resistance to his charms, but she was melting into him, all the distance she had tried to put between them falling away at once.
“No,” she whispered as she gazed up at him. “I didn’t.”
He reached up, planting a finger beneath her chin and guiding it upwards, so that she was looking into his eyes. Her knees were trembling helplessly, and she felt like she might faint on the spot. She could feel his breath on her skin, the promise of it, the temptation it held. As though he were the devil himself, and she was nothing more than a helpless sinner unable to resist his temptations.
“I came here tonight because I always get what’s mine,” he told her softly, his voice dropping to a low growl.
