Page 30 of Confessions of a Highland Assassin

Rory let out a snort of laughter but quickly covered his mouth and coughed as if something was caught in his throat. “She’s headed this way with a very determined look on her face. I think ye better go and tak’ a breather, Boyd,” Rory suggested. “I’ll run interference for ye.”

“Thank ye,” Boyd said quickly. “I’ll be back soon enough. Mak’ my apologies if anyone asks,” he quickly walked away and slipped into the hall leading away from the lady’s powder rooms.

Heaving a heavy sigh of relief, Boyd climbed the stairs that led to his father’s study. All he needed was a quick moment to catch his breath without talking to one of the many fine ladies being thrust under his nose. Rubbing the back of his neck to deal with the ache that was building in his head, Boyd used his free hand to open the door and stepped inside.

And to his surprise, he was not alone. “What are ye doing in here?” he said, taken aback when he spotted the dark-haired beauty running her fingers over the spines of his books.

The girl froze for a second before whipping around, clearly startled.

He felt bad for scaring her. But he was in no mood to deal with a lady in his father’s study when he needed a moment of peace. “Why are ye nae at the ball?” he asked after a while when she didn’t respond. “Should ye nae be with yer father?”

“I… I was just catching my breath. I found the company a bit stifling and boring,” she said. “My father isnae here but I have a chaperone that is otherwise engaged at the moment.”

Boyd saw the panic in her eyes at her sudden admission. She’d once again spoken without thinking. Boyd had been right in assuming she’d amuse him. He shut the door behind him, deciding to let her stay. Her unpracticed mannerism seemed like a breath of fresh air. Walking over to the desk, he leaned against the edge with his arms folded across his chest and his legs stretched out in front of him. “What’s yer name?” he asked once he was settled.

“Ava… Sinclair,” she said after a pause.

“Yer father is the laird who had tae travel so he sent ye here with yer maid?”

“Aye,” she said and quickly turned her attention back to the books.

He admired how effortlessly beautiful she was in her bright green dress. Her full breasts were perfectly rounded at the top as the milky mounds peaked over the fabric. The delicate curve of her slender neck became even more apparent when she turned her head away from him.

“Have we met ‘afore?” he asked, unable to shake the feeling that he’d seen those light blue eyes and long black hair somewhere else.

“I dinnae think so, milaird,” she said dismissively. “Me father travels a lot. We would nae have had the opportunity tae meet. Ye have a lot of books here,” she changed the subject and nodded toward the shelves.

“Aye, me father and mother liked tae read and kept quite a few novels for any guests that shared their passion. Have ye read many novels?"

“Aye…” she said a little reluctantly.

Boyd found her mannerism even more intriguing. She was one of the strangest women he’d ever met. “Which ones have ye read? Dae ye have any favorites?”

She seemed to panic for a second but quickly regained her composure. “There’s that one with the lovers that die in the end because of a misunderstanding. I cannae think of the name right now…” she said, biting her bottom lip and swaying slightly.

“Romeo and Juliet?” he suggested helpfully.

“Aye… that’s the one,” she agreed but didn’t seem sure of herself. “There’s also the one where some witches try tae kill a Scottish king. I think they have some ham over breakfast or something. It was a long time ago since I read the books. I’ve been tae busy with other things…”

Boyd frowned and cocked his head to the side. She may have been talking about Shakespeare. His mother had been an avid reader of his, but he’d always listened with half an ear to her stories. She may have been referring to Macbeth, but he wasn’t quite sure where the ham over breakfast came in.

“I… I think we should be getting back now; me maid will be wondering where I’ve gotten tae,” she said quickly and started to walk toward the door with haste.

Boyd grasped her arm. When he startled her, her foot became entangled on the edge of the brown rug in front of the desk. He tried to hold her, but his slanted position leaning against the desk caused him to topple over with her, as his legs were at an angle.

Boyd landed just above Ava, who was lying on her back on the rug, staring up at him. He used his arms to break his fall and keep himself from collapsing on her. She was significantly smaller than him and would have been injured. “Are ye hurt?” he asked through a grimace as he stared down at her shocked face. The impact on his arms had sent hot bolts of fire shooting through his wound.

“I… I didnae get hurt,” she stuttered through her shock. “But I think ye may have. Are ye in pain?”

Boyd pushed himself up with his arms, trying his best to ignore the pain. He sat with his back against the desk, taking a sharp breath through his teeth as the pain grew worse. “It’s an old injury. I think I may have reopened it,” he explained. “It has nae been that long since it occurred.”

Ava quickly got to her feet and came toward him, kneeling down at his side. “Here, let me tak’ a look,” she said lifting his arm and placing her hand over his ribs.

He could feel a warmth seeping through his shirt and spreading where she’d pressed her hand.

“The wound has opened again. Ye are bleeding,” she confirmed. “Is there some water and clean linen nearby?"

“Me chambers are just across the hall,” he jerked his head in that direction. “There should be a fresh jug of water and some cloth next to the basin. The maids leave it there for me tae wash ‘afore bed.”