Logen glanced toward the ledger on the table and the stack of papers—scraps, mostly, littering the surface around it—and groaned.
“That’s better.”
The twitch of her lips into a satisfied smirk only served to increase his irritation. Better that, he supposed, than quailing under how much she had at stake if this didn’t work. In comparison, his task seemed trivial. Nay, not trivial. The incompetence of his predecessors had consequences, too, for the clan as well as for him.
He risked a glance in her direction. Her frown gave away nothing but concentration. He stood quietly and moved around the table. If she wanted him irritated, he might as well accomplish something with the irritation. With a sigh, he opened the ledger and bent to work.
****
Coira built dunes along the pounding surf of Logen’s irritation until they stretched as far as her mind could see. Then she built them higher. His irritation still hid behind them, the roar muted, the wind blocked.
It worked! But could she maintain the barrier without focusing all her concentration on it? She opened her eyes and glanced around, surprised to see that Logen had changed his seat. She hadn’t noticed. That pleased her. A dune crumbled and some of the roar came back as Logen frowned at his ledger and made a note on the side. Coira closed her eyes and rebuilt the barrier, then opened them again.
Logen glanced up and met her gaze. He smiled.
Coira’s heart stuttered to see it, but her barrier held.
“Did ye do it?”
“Aye, I am. But I want to try something else.” She stood, turned away from him, and moved to the window. “Keep working.”
She held the essence of the dune wall in the back of her mind while she studied the activity in the bailey below Logen’s window. Then she moved to the bookcase and pulled a volume from the shelf, noting its weight, the texture of the binding, the dust along the top. Logen muttered an oath behind her, but the dunes held.
Sweet relief filled her. She could do this. At least here, isolated in Logen’s workspace, for a time. But in a crowd? Or facing hostile emotions directed at her? That would take more practice. She needed a harder test. She replaced the book on the shelf and moved back to the table. Logen set his work aside and faced her.
“I want to touch ye, to see if my barrier will hold.”
“Take my hand, then.” He held his arm out.
Coira took a deep breath, brought the dunes to the forefront of her mind and took Logen’s hand in both of hers.
The dunes dissolved and the roar of the angry surf crashed over her. Coira pulled away from Logen and shuddered. “Too much.”
“I’m sorry. I...these records were poorly kept.”
Was it only irritation with his task she felt? Or was there something else angering Logen as well? “Please, I’d like to try again.”
At Logen’s nod, Coira closed her eyes and rebuilt her barrier, higher and stronger this time. With a fingertip, she touched the back of his hand, tentative at first, then with more confidence as her barrier held. She opened her eyes to meet his gaze. Heat flared like the rising sun on a summer day, the sand of the beach scorching her bare feet, burning away his irritation. An unexpected wave of emotion of a very different sort crashed over her, drenching her in his longing.
Sucking in a breath, she stepped back, diminishing, but not breaking, the link between them. “Logen...”
He shook his head and blinked as if dazed, then met her gaze. A hot flush stained his cheeks red. “I apologize. I didna mean for ye to feel that. I tried to stop it...”
“Nay, dinna apologize. I expected anger. Ye startled me. But Logen...” Her fingers curled into her palm as she fought for calm. She could not make the same mistake again. He might want her, but not in the way she wished for.
“Dinna say it.” He stood and moved away, anger now rolling off him in waves.
At himself, she was sure. He desired her and had not meant to let her know. She saw his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath and began to control his emotions, seeking calm. She mirrored him, sighing and forcing her body to relax.
“I willna ask ye to do, to become, anything ye dinna wish for,” he said, turning to stare out the window. “I ken the reception the clan would give the idea of…ye with me. ’Tis too soon. I ken it. But ye are no’ the only one alone here.”
He paused and she held her breath. What would he say next?
“Ye please me. Yer gift fascinates me. And ye can help me. Aye, ’tis self-serving, I ken that, too. But ye may be the only person here I can trust.”
“Ach, Logen.” Her fingers spread, and she lifted her hand toward him, fully aware of what that admission cost him. But she dropped her hand back to her side without touching him. Could she make him understand? “Yecantrust me. I do wish to help ye. But I dinna ken if I can…it may be too much for me.”
His gaze shifted away from her. “All I ask is that ye try.”
