The two of them made their way back down to her chambers, and a little prickle formed in the base of her spine as she imagined what it might be like to invite him in. She had no idea if he would be affronted by such a thing; if he would think her rude or demanding for being the one to make the move, but she had been the one to reject him the night before.
Well, she had not entirely rejected him, but she had not accepted his advances when he had challenged her to tell him that he was wrong in his estimations and that she did not want him at all. She could feel a heat rising deep within her, a want that he had sparked into being when he had kissed her the night before, and she wondered if—no… hoped—he would do it again.
They reached her door, and she turned to him, every inch of her body tingling as she waited for him to say something. Slowly, he leaned towards her, brushing his lips across her cheek. A shiver rushed up and down her body, from the spot he touched to the tip of her fingers and back again.
When he pulled away, she found her lips slightly parted, like there was more that she wanted to say to him but that she was not able to put into words.
“Rest well, wife,” he told her.
And, with that, he turned his back and left, making his way down the corridor to leave her standing there with a look of utter confusion on her face, and a deep wanting in her gut. For a second, she thought of calling out after him, but she was sure that was what he’d have wanted. So she bit back a response, promising herself that she would not give in to him that easily. One night of his kindness would not be enough to change her mind, that much she was sure of.
No matter how badly she might have wanted to call out to him in that moment. And no matter how badly her body seemed to insist that she find some way to coax him into her chambers and not let him leave again till morning.
She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, leaning her head against the wall and letting out a long, uneven breath. She reached to touch the spot where he had kissed her and let out a slight groan.
Because whatever she had thought about him had just been shattered by everything he had done today. And loathing him had been much easier than accepting whatever strange mix of emotions coursed through her in that instant.
Chapter Eleven
Isla smoothedout the riding ensemble as she stood at her window, peering down at the courtyard where the morning sun had just begun to warm the ground. It was the day after her dinner with Camron, and she could not for the life of her forget the way that he had looked at her as though he could imagine nothing better than spending a night with her.
A far cry, it was fair to say, from the way he had treated her before, but a change she was entirely grateful for. She had tried for so long to keep her distance from him, not to give in to the strange draw she felt towards him, but it seemed to have failed her, once and for all. Whatever certainty she had been clinging to that she was the one in control here seemed to be spinning out of her grip faster than she could make sense of it. She was determined to remedy that today, though.
She had woken early that morning, after what felt like hours of tossing and turning, to the sound of someone outside her door. Thinking it might have been Camron, she’d sprung from her bed at once and rushed out to see who it was, only to find a maid dropping off her gift from the evening prior. She had unwrapped it once more, laying it out on the bed before her, and admired it for a little longer.
The trousers and jacket were a perfect fit when she tried them on, and the ribbon at her throat seemed to mark her as entirely his, as though there was to be any debate on the matter at all. She got the feeling he would not have taken kindly to anyone second-guessing their marriage, but this tartan served as a final reminder. So she looped it around her collar and tightened it there.
She had spotted Camron emerging from the Keep early in the day, too, and she wondered if he had struggled to sleep as much as she had. She had found her mind drifting to the feel of his lips against her cheek over and over again. Even though he had teased her with far more passion when she had gone to him in his study, she couldn’t help but feel even more confused by how gentle he had been with her. She had not imagined him capable of such sweetness, but the knowledge that he was, she found… exciting. Intriguing.
He seemed to have gathered a few of his men for training drills that morning, but she was determined to get his attention once more. The evening before, he had shown such interest in her, and now she was unwilling to let it slip through her fingers. She made her way downstairs, passing by the maid who had helped her fix her dress in the library, and offered her a quick smile of thanks. Maybe there was reason to make an effort with the people here, after all…
Outside, Camron was in the midst of commanding his men in a practice session, and she watched for a moment from the doorway of the Keep as they thrust their swords out in unison. His voice was strong and commanding as it cut through the air around her. She felt the same tingle at the base of her spine that she had the night before when the two of them had been alone together.
She tossed her auburn hair over her shoulder and strode out before him. If he was really going to make an effort with her,then he should be glad to see her, should he not? And he had remarked that he was looking forward to seeing her in the outfit he had purchased for her.
Sure enough, as his gaze landed on her, it swept up and down her body, drinking in the sight of her for a moment as his men continued to swing their swords this way and that. All of them had their backs to her, and, for a second, it was like they were the only two people out in that courtyard. It seemed that Camron’s dark gaze upon her had a way of making her feel it was only just about them.
“Quiet,” Camron called to his men, lifting a hand to silence them as she drew closer. A few of them glanced over towards her, clearly confused by the sudden interruption, especially at this hour of the day.
“What can I help ye with, my Lady?” Camron asked.
His voice had once again slipped into that unreadable tone that he’d addressed her with before, and she could not make sense of whether or not he was glad to see her. It was one thing for him to organize an evening that the two of them could spend together, yet quite another for her to invade his space the way she was.
“I’d like ye to teach me how to ride, my Laird” she replied, raising her eyebrows and lifting her chin.
It was quite a demand, especially when he was in the midst of something else, but she could not help herself. She needed to know if he would give her what she wanted, or if he’d be quick to shut her down and focus on the running of the Keep, instead.
He glanced at his assembled men, most of whom were catching their breath and clearly glad for the break. And then, to her surprise, he nodded.
“Aye, I have the time for it,” he replied, and he gestured to the stables, dismissing the men with a waving hand. “Come. Let’s find ye a mare who willnae cause you too much trouble.”
She stood there for a moment, shocked, and then, when she realized she was getting what she wanted, she hurried to catch up. He glanced over his shoulder at her, the whisper of a grin crossing his face.
“Ye look as beautiful as I thought ye would,” he remarked, his eyes tracing up and down her new outfit with obvious appreciation.
A blush rose to her cheeks, and she hoped that he did not notice it. It would have given him too much power to see that she was somewhat in his thrall, despite her best efforts to keep it to herself.
Dismissing the eager stable hands, he saddled up a gray mare himself and climbed into the saddle, helping her up so that she was planted in front of him. He took the reins, his arms sliding on either side of her body, and guided them into her grip.
