Page 2 of In Bed with a Highland Liar

“With yer maither?” Gilchrist asked, surprised. “Are ye gettin’ tae ken her better, then? Will ye go an’ see her?”

“I cannae see her,” Aaden said.

“Surely, ye can. Where is she now?”

Aaden sighed, delaying his response by taking a large sip of wine. In the end, he looked at Gilchrist in the eye and said, “She is a courtesan. Where dae ye think she is?”

It wasn’t true, but it was the story everyone had been told. His father had never revealed his mother’s true identity to anyone but Aaden himself, and Aaden didn’t intend to expose her like this, not even to his friend.

Aaden had seen what love did to people. He had seen how his father had wilted before everyone’s eyes, loving the woman he could never have. What he knew of his mother told him that she, too, had never stopped grieving their lost love, spending her years yearning after his father.

It wasn’t that Aaden didn’t believe in love. He had seen it first-hand. Love was real and it was painful, and he was never going to go down that path of self-destruction. He would rather spend his life with a different woman every night, never once risking falling in love.

What he had said seemed to be enough to silence Gilchrist on the matter, at least temporarily. He gave Aaden a sympathetic look and a pat on the shoulder before he drained his cup and stood.

“We should sleep,” he said. “We must wake early on the morrow an’ head back.”

“Aye,” said Aaden. “But I think I’ll stay a while longer.”

His gaze scanned the room, looking for any women he could bring to his room before the night was over. Gilchrist didn’t need to ask why. He only gave him a roll of his eyes, though his smile was fond.

“Alright,” he said. “Good luck with yer hunt. I’m very glad I dinnae have tae dae this anymore.”

With that, he was gone, heading up the stairs to the room he had secured for the night, as Aaden returned to his search. He could speak to one of the serving wenches, he thought. They were both young and pretty, and they always fell for his charms.

But then again, who didn’t?

He let his gaze roam around the room for a while longer and that was when he spotted her: a young woman with long hair as dark as the night and a pair of blue eyes that pierced him like an arrow when they met his own for a brief second. She was sitting with another young woman, the two of them talking animatedly and paying him no mind, but Aaden wasn’t going to be discouraged by something as insignificant, not when that woman was the most beautiful creature he had laid his eyes on.

He could wait and so he did, sipping the rest of his wine slowly as he watched them, waiting patiently for the right moment. That moment came when the woman’s friend stood and left the room, but she remained, idly sipping her drink as she looked around her.

Taking his chance, Aaden stood and walked over to her table, sliding into the seat her friend had only just vacated.

“Good evenin’,” he said, his smile so bright it could outshine any candle in the room. “What is such a bonnie lass doin’ here alone? It’s very cold, after all, an’ they say it’s easier tae warm up when ye have another next tae ye.”

It was a bit bold and a bit silly, but every time Aaden used that line, he usually received at least a chuckle in return. He was good looking enough for his conquests to need little coaxing, finding him charming in his audacity.

This woman didn’t seem to, though. The glare she gave him sent a chill down his spine. It was colder than the rain outside the inn, as if she would have liked nothing more than to kill him where he sat.

“I was enjoyin’ me own company until ye disturbed me,” she said, her melodious voice carrying so much irritation that the contrast was dizzying. It was fine with him, though. Aaden liked a challenge, and he wasn’t going to back down that easily. In the end, the reward of bedding her would be worth it.

“May I offer ye a drink, then, as an apology?” he said, already raising his hand to call for the serving wench when the woman stopped him.

“Thank ye, but nay. Ye see, I have this rare ailment. I cannae accept drinks from strangers without bein’ nauseated an’ vomitin’ all over them.”

Charmin’ lass.

Pursing his lips in distaste, Aaden leaned a little closer over the table to rest his head on his hand. “Is that truly a way tae get a man’s attention?”

“Aye, me biggest goal in life is tae get a handsome man’s attention,” the woman said with a roll of her eyes. She all but slammed her hands on the table and stood, pushing back her chair with a scraping sound that made Aaden recoil. “An’ it obviously worked if ye’re here, tryin’ tae steal me affections.”

The woman walked off, but before she could get too far, Aaden followed her. Perhaps he should simply accept defeat, but it wasn’t often that a woman rejected him. In fact, he couldn’t remember a time when it had happened. Some of them were difficult, but by the end of the night, they always ended up in his bed.

“Are we headin’ tae me chambers or yers?” he asked, deciding that boldness was the way to go with this woman. She, too, was bold, after all, having no regard for what was polite.

The woman came to an abrupt halt and turned around to look at him, giving him a smile that was all teeth. “Ye should certainly wait fer me in yer chambers,” she said, and then turned around just as swiftly, once more heading for the door.

Aaden couldn’t let it go just yet, though. It intrigued him, how feisty she was, how quick to respond, the insults tumbling one after the other out of her lips. Aaden had never met such a spirited woman before and something stirred inside him, a kind of insistent, irresistible desire for more.