Page 39 of A Dangerous Highland Affair

“It’s naething,” said Teasag, although in reality, her stricken hand was beginning to smart, painfully. “I just wanted to ken where ye got it…,” she asked, flustered. “The kitchen at the keep back where I worked had one a wee bit like that… they cost a pretty penny too…,” she stopped. It wasn’t the McCallum Keep she remembered it from; it was the tavern yesterday. The bartender had served her from something very similar.

Teasag’s voice drifted away, thinking. Those pans were expensive, not to mention heavy. Neacal must have had it in his knapsack all along.

“See, it’s burnt,” said Neacal, coming over and fussing around her like a mother hen. He began tending to her, dipping his handkerchief in a small cup of water, and dabbing her hand.

“Better?” he asked, soothingly, as Teasag watched with interest the array of objects he had been able to fit into such a small bag. Assembled all around them were bits and pieces, including a couple of earthenware cups and some ornate looking cutlery.

Just as she was about to remark about where they had come from, Neacal looked up at her.

“Just leave me to the cooking; it’ll be much safer!” he teased, letting go of the makeshift compress but bringing his spare hand over to her arm and giving it a quick squeeze.

Almost immediately, a thrill shot through Teasag’s body, sending a rush down her spine. Then, he was gone - back to his makeshift campfire, and by the looks of it, not a bad job either.

“Yer all set for this, aren’t ye?” she asked, watching him admiringly. Teasag narrowed her eyes against the upcoming sun and observed Neacal’s labors. He poured out the small kettle, tending to this thing and that.

At his feet was a large mug of water, which he must have filled while she was sleeping. Teasag glanced around, she hadn’t been aware of a spring nearby, but as she listened, she could hear a faint trickling in the distance.

But mainly, she just admired Neacal’s features, cast into the open sunlight, and framed against his golden-brown hair. The morning was bright but had a biting freshness to it, which made her clutch at her brat and pull it tightly around her. Without his body heat beside her, Teasag was now unexpectedly cold.

Watching her shiver, Neacal grinned broadly as he continued to find them something to eat. He worked with his knife for a while, burrowing into his haversack for something to add to the dish.

“Aye, I am used to camping oot in the stars,” said Neacal, thrusting his arms up to the sky dramatically. He smiled so crazily that Teasag could not help but laugh.

His voice had been in her head all night, his words sounding over and over in her dreams. His rhythmic tone and stilting prose had mesmerized her into sleep.

Teasag yawned and shook the sleepiness from her head, but she couldn’t shake the sound of his voice calling to her. There was something sensuous about it, not just in the way he told the story, but in the magical way his fingers had unlocked her senses as he stroked her to sleep.

And now, there he stood, almost naked from the waist up, with only his plaid wrapped around his lower half to cover him, his shoulder-length brown-blond hair billowing in the wind. It was all that Teasag could do to tear her eyes away from him.

It wouldn’t do for him to see her staring, but pulling her eyes away from his rugged biceps took some doing. Without warning, he looked up, and she was locked in his stare, gazing openly into his sky-colored eyes. A dangerous grin started from his lips, across the dimples in his cheeks, sending goose-pimples across her flesh.

His smile brought a searing warmth into her midriff, and sweetly seduced her heart. It was impossible to keep looking as he stared back, but it was equally impossible to stop.

Breathless, Teasag stared ahead, pretending to watch the blustery summer morn as it tore a branch from a nearby tree. All the while, she was heating up inside at the glimpse of Neacal’s soft behind, peeking coyly from his flapping plaid.

The man had a muscular tone to die for, with biceps of iron, wrapped up in a svelte but hardily shaped frame.

As Neacal found her some meat, he brought his eyes close to hers once more and fixed her with such a beam that Teasag knew she was powerless to let go.

“And so,” he said with an amused grin, setting the meat beside her and pouring her a hot drink from the copper kettle. “ye ken, I had some mighty strange dreams last night, lassie…”

He looked at her conspiratorially, turning Teasag’s cheeks deep red. His hand reached over to find hers, giving it a squeeze until Teasag thought she would never stop blushing.

“Really?” said Teasag, in the lowest voice she could muster. Suddenly, talking about their closeness last night was horribly embarrassing.

Doubts assailed her. What if he was unhappy about it? Maybe he hadn’t meant for her to cuddle up into him. He was going to tell her that she shouldn’t look at him in such a way. All sorts of scenarios ran through the girl’s mind as she waited for Neacal to explain.

And when he did, it was not the words she was expecting.

“Aye, afore I went to sleep, I saw ye, standing over me, most awfu’ quare it was!” Neacal continued, his eyes sparkling. “Just standing there, into the night, watching o’er me, an’ scribbling something… or scratching, but I dinnae ken what it was ye were doin’”

The look in his eyes was playful, but Teasag could see that he wanted answers. The curiosity in his voice stood out, waiting keenly for her response.

Teasag’s first instinct was to brush him off. “Um, naething!” she said, her eyes flitting from side to side and refusing to meet his.

But Neacal wasn’t having that. He fixed her again with his blue gaze and repeated his question.

“Nae, lass, ye were doing something last night, afore I slept, an’ if I didnae ken better, I would have said ye were casting a spell on me…”