Page 11 of A Dangerous Highland Affair

Neacal. A slow smile spread across Teasag’s face at the sight of him sleeping there. Until that minute, she had forgotten all about his promise to keep an eye on the door overnight. In honesty, Teasag hadn’t really expected the lad to spend the entire night camped out outside her bedroom door. Now, the sight of him lying there, his shoulders covered lightly by the distinctive blue and red brat, gave her heart a little sigh.

“Neacal,” she murmured. She was on the verge of going over to him when she suddenly stopped.

Her first thought had been to wake the lad, maybe giving him a cheery greeting, or even to shake him awake. But, watching him lying there, the lad seemed so peaceful that Teasag didn’t have the heart to disturb him.

Instead, she stepped carefully over his sleeping frame, a strange energy fizzling through her veins. Then, she stopped, hard on her heel, to take in the atmosphere of the morning. Outside, the sunrise was beginning to take hold through the narrow corridor, scraping the back of Teasag’s eyes and making her blink. At that moment, she felt a euphoria building in the blue skies above. Sometime in the last few moments, the gray dawn had given way to the bright sun’s rays.

For the first time in days, the thick rainclouds had cleared to reveal a perfect summer’s day. As she stepped over the sleeping lad beneath her, Teasag couldn’t help but hesitate.

The memory of something that Neacal had said had niggled away at her all night. It was probably just a turn of expression, but as the night had drawn to an end, he had turned to her and said gaily.

“Well, yon lass, I hope yer heart rules yer head an’ takes ye to the place ye want to be!”

He had spoken the words so lightly, and at the time, she hadn’t thought anything of them. After all, it was just a pleasantry, something to wish her well on her journey. But his words had resonated with Teasag ever since.

Of course, she had just laughed, but it seemed to her that somehow, he had known what her journey home was about. And she hadn’t given much away to him. All they had talked about was Blackness, and even then, she hadn’t managed to find out much about him. If Teasag hadn’t known better, she would have thought that he was hiding something from her. But then again, she wasn’t too willing to divulge the reason for her journey home.

Instead, she had sat there, biting her lip, and wishing that she had been a little braver and done the thing she was longing to do; and ask to sketch him.

Of course, she had not. After all, it sounded ridiculous, a woman, an artist! A woman like her! There was no way she could come out with such a thing. But Neacal’s words had spurred her on.

“I hope yer heart takes ye to places ye want to go!” No-one had said that to her before, and it was not something that Teasag would forget in a hurry.

For the first time in Teasag’s life, it felt as if things might finally be going her way. Ever since she had met her friend at the McCallum Keep, she had been determined to make more of herself in life. But it had been hard.

Now, as she flitted through the sunny corridor, it seemed to her that, just maybe, she might be on the verge of achieving her plans.

Turning back to look at the sleeping lad, curled like a cat at her door, Teasag hid a smile. He looked so content. Sleep had shaken off his years and his self-possessed cockiness, and now he slept, as innocent as a babe.

Teasag watched his rhythmic breathing and sighed. Part of her wanted to wake him so desperately, but, somehow, it just wouldn’t be right.

Neacal raised his head, shifting it slightly through his dreams. Teasag had thought that he was waking for a minute, but then, he fell back into a deep sleep.

Oh, how Teasag wished she could paint him, and for another few minutes, she hovered over her knapsack, wondering.

Once again, Neacal’s words flashed through her head.

Follow yer heart, lassie.

Unfastening her bag, Teasag pulled out the quills but quickly discounted them as too messy. Instead, she dug deep and found her charcoal. Then, grabbing a bundle of parchment, she sketched down the outline of his jaw and began to build his profile.

Teasag’s fingers worked hard, sketching away as fast as they could possibly manage. He looked so beautiful, with his hair falling onto his rugged shoulders. The only detail missing was the piercing blue of his eyes, but sleeping had revealed little quirks that she hadn’t noticed before. Like the length of his eyelashes. As she sketched, Teasag could not believe she hadn’t noticed them before; they were so long! And it wasn’t just the length. As she rubbed the charcoals into the canvas to create an effect, Teasag marveled at the perfect curve Neacal’s eyelids made. He had unusually sensitive eyes for a man, topped off with gracious curling eyelashes that made Teasag mad with envy.

Teasag worked quickly, but even so, she was aware of time creeping up on her. She couldn’t stay here like this for long, but the temptation to commit his likeness to paper was overwhelming. Her fingers had longed to sketch him ever since last night when he had stepped in to help her in the bar.

A glow of warmth came over her as she remembered the clear and confident way in which he’d intervened. Just when it seemed like no one was going to do anything, Neacal had calmed the situation, freeing her and preventing the aged barkeeper from being irreversibly maimed.

Yet, when they had spoken later, it was as if Neacal had wanted her to forget all about it. Sketching his face, Teasag mused on the mixed messages he had given.

On the one hand, he’d been attentive and rushed to her defense, not to mention volunteer to sleep at her door, with naught but his cloak for bedding. But equally, he’d been strangely distant during the few hours they’d spent together.

Those closed shut eyes seeped with mischief, but at the same time, there was a warning within them. Teasag frowned as she worked to outline the hair, softly falling over his eyes.

If it was one thing she was good at, she could tell when someone was hiding something, and Neacal was definitely suspicious. Yet, it wasn’t in a bad way.

As they sat together, she could not help noticing him glance over his shoulder as if looking for someone. Of course, it could have been to see if the rowdy farmer and his mates were coming back, but when she’d asked him, he’d sounded relaxed about that.

No, it was someone else, but who or what else she did not know. All she did know was that for someone who had stepped in to stop a bar fight, he seemed mighty keen to get out of the spotlight.