“I couldnae quite bring meself tae let ye walk away,” he admitted.
Elaina held his gaze, searching it, though she found no uncertainty there, only truth.
“And why was that?” she asked, though her voice had grown quieter.
Duncan did not look away.
“Because I was drawn tae ye, from the first moment I saw ye.”
Elaina felt the tightening of the air around them.
“I didnae understand it then,” he continued. “I only kent that walking away from ye would be… difficult.”
He paused, just briefly.
“And staying away that night,” he added, more quietly now, “was the hardest thing I have done in a long while.”
Elaina’s breath caught. He was closer now, close enough that she could see the way his gaze lingered on her as though she were the only thing anchoring him in place. The space between them had all but disappeared. She should have stepped back.
She did not.
“Duncan…” she began, though the word faltered as soon as it left her lips.
His hand lifted slowly, as though giving her every chance to pull away. Once again, she did not. His fingers brushed lightly against her arm, then stilled, waiting. Elaina’s pulse quickened, as the quiet of the stables suddenly felt far too small to contain what was building between them.
“Tell me tae stop,” he murmured.
She could not.
Instead, her hand rose of its own accord, resting against his chest, feeling the steady, undeniable rhythm beneath her palm.
“I dinnae wish ye tae,” she whispered.
That was all it took.
The restraint he had held so carefully seemed to give way at once. He closed the remaining distance between them, his hand moving to her waist, drawing her gently but firmly closer. Elaina felt the warmth of him, the strength of his hold, and any lingering hesitation dissolved beneath it.
When his lips met hers, it was a crash of longing. The kiss deepened almost at once, shaped by all that had gone unspoken between them, by every moment of restraint that had led here. Elaina’s fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as she leanedinto him, her breath catching as the world seemed to narrow to nothing but the closeness of him.
His hand tightened slightly at her waist, anchoring her there, while the other traced upward along her back, as though committing the shape of her to memory.
He slammed her against the wall, keeping her wedged between two hard places, neither willing to move. She could feel his raw desire for her, pressing against her lower abdomen. The thought of being claimed by him inflamed her entire body, and she felt as if she were on fire.
His hand cupped her breast, and she moaned under the touch. He was not gentle, and she didn’t want him to be. She wanted him to tear off her clothes and take her, right then and there.
But the sound of the stable doors opening broke the spell of the moment. Cold morning light spilled across the floor, cutting sharply through the dim warmth of the stables. They both looked in that direction, only to see a young stable boy standing frozen in the doorway. His eyes were wide and his entire body gone rigid at the sight before Elaina pressed against the wooden wall, Duncan far too close and his hand still firm at her waist.
For a long, unbearable second, no one moved.
“Me laird… me lady… I…” the boy stammered, his face flushing a deep, furious red as his gaze darted anywhere but at them.
He swallowed hard, stepped back, and then quite abruptly, turned on his heel and fled. The door slammed shut behind him.
Silence fell. Elaina blinked once. Then she looked up at Duncan. Duncan looked down at her.
For a heartbeat, they simply stared at one another. And then, all at once, the tension broke. Elaina let out a breath that turned into laughter, bright and unrestrained, her hand lifting to cover her mouth as she shook her head. Duncan followed a moment later, with a low, disbelieving laugh escaping him.
“Well,” he spoke in amusement, “I imagine that will be the talk of the stables before the hour is out.”
