Eerie, silent, filled with secrets, those containers had the power to stop his road project cold and ripple deep changes through his life. Dundrennan hung in the balance.
Leaning in the darkness in candlelight, he watched Christina scribbling away in her little notebook by candlelight. She had produced the candle and flint, as well as a plaid blanket from a rucksack the Gowans had provided her. He smiled sadly, wishing Hugh MacBride could have seen this place. His father would have loved this place, its history, its potential.
Aedan felt differently. He would have to accept the significance of the site and carry on as best he could. But he knew the consequences.
Rain pounded overhead and drizzle slipped down one wall, creating a muddy puddle. Aedan went to the ladder and climbed up to tighten the stiff cloth over the opening.
“If this place is truly ancient,” he said, “we do not want it soaked.”
“Surely not,” Christina agreed. She set down her little book of notes, wrapped her arms around herself, and shivered. “It was warm on the hill in the sun earlier, but it’s quite chilly down here.”
“At least we are dry,” he said. “Come over here, away from the leak.” He beckoned her into a dark corner. Christina spread out the plaid and sat, while Aedan settled beside her. From an inner pocket, he produced a small leather flask. “I have a wee bit of whisky here if you need warming.” He offered it to her.
He expected her to refuse, but she took it and drank, swallowing twice and gasping a little. When she handed it back, he sipped and capped it.
The chamber smelled of ancient earth, stone, and the rain that drummed overhead. Outside, thunder rumbled low and faint. Christina shivered again, and Aedan lifted an arm to bring her closer. She leaned against him. Neither spoke.
Whether it was the rhythm of the storm or the girl’s presence, Aedan felt his earlier impatience dissolve as a sense of contentment wrapped almost magically around him. Here in this dark, ancient place, being alone with Christina felt natural, comforting, wholly right.
Thunder boomed again, followed by a sharp crack of lightning. Christina leaped a little and cried out in surprise. Aedan pulled her closer and she nestled against him easily, folding her gloved hands demurely in her lap. Beneath layered skirts, her legs stretched out beside his longer legs, the toes of her sensible leather boots peeking out. Aedan lifted a knee to rest his free arm there, keeping Christina tucked close.
Her straw hat poked against his jaw, and he angled his head away. “I beg you, divest yourself of that bonny thing before I lose an eye.”
“Sorry,” she murmured, and reached up to loosen its black satin ribbons, drawing the hat away and setting it down.
He brushed his hand over her hair to smooth strands mussed by the hat. She craned her head to his touch, so that his simple caress echoed like thunder through his body. Lowering his head slightly, he felt her breath sweet upon his cheek. He sensed the tension of anticipation in her breath, her stillness.
The need to kiss her pulsed boldly through him. But days ago, they had agreed to be friends. Posing for John, holding her in his arms, tried his resolve every night lately. The temptation now, sitting alone with her, was devastating pressure. With luck, the storm would be short-lived. Yet he wanted it to go on and on, trapping them together, a strange and ancient haven from the outside world.
Another lightning crack sounded and she jumped again. “Sorry,” she said.
“Not everyone likes storms.” He rubbed her outer arm. “Thunderstorms in these hills can be fierce. They sweep fast over the moorland from the west and hit the hillsides with a good deal of power. Lightning up here can strike solitary trees and start rockslides, even kill sheep in the fields.”
“The poor things!”
“And that is why I did not want you to be alone on the hill with a storm coming.”
She nodded and tucked closer in the circle of his arm. The warmth between them deepened, penetrated, ease and comfort rolling into insistent passion. She felt so good in his protection just now, as if she belonged, as if he had long searched for her and now had to keep her close. Safe from the storm.
And she felt so very good against him, her blouse slightly damp, the warmth of her skin meeting his hand. Nearly groaning, he felt his body surge of its own accord. He tipped back his head and tried to relax in the darkness outside the circle of the small golden candle flame. Mellowed by a little whisky, the drowsy rhythm of rain, and the infusion of comfort between them, he felt his breath deepen.
Silent, Christina leaned her cheek on his shoulder and rested her palm on his chest. That alluring pool of heat grew and spread.
The storm had better end soon, he thought. His heart thumped, body pulsed, thoughts centered on the burn of her hand on his chest, the closeness of her body and his, and how very alone they were. His fingers, all on their own, began to sweep in a circle on her shoulder and down her arm. Shivers and heat crackled through him.
They needed to be acquaintances only, but the lusty track of his thoughts took dominion. He could not endure sitting here with her much longer, restraint waning. He did not want to test his willpower against the spell of this girl again. He would lose.
“I suppose,” she said then, her voice soft, “Sir Edgar will come running to supervise when he learns about this.”
Aedan shifted a bit, almost relieved to have his thoughts interrupted. “Edgar had better keep away from Dundrennan. Though I suppose both of you will be eager to close down my road.”
“Edgar will decide if your road will close, not I.”
He cocked a brow at her, and she returned the glance. Behind delicate steel spectacles, her eyes were soot-lashed and dusky. Her chin was stubborn, and her lips were lush and rosy. He knew just how soft they were.
Think of the road,he told himself. But he only wanted to think about her softness, her lusciousness. He sat up a little,keeping his arm around her. “Mrs. Blackburn, let me emphasize again how serious it will be if the highway cannot proceed.”
“I understand. I do not mean to challenge you.”
