Page 32 of Stealing a Kilted Heart

“It’s nae problem,” she assured him. In the moonlight, her cheeks were flushed and her lips a soft pink, and Knox still ached to kiss them. “I understand. There is nae need tae apologize.”

“Ye can walk back the rest o’ the way on yer own?”

“Och aye,” said Fia. “Thank ye.”

With one last smile, Knox turned around and followed the guard, but not before he gave one last glance to Fia to hold him over until he would see her again.

“Is this truly somethin’ fer which ye had tae call me?” Knox asked, looking at Magnus from behind his desk. As usual, they were in his study, sharing a pitcher of wine, but this time, Knox would much rather have been with Fia—from whom Magnus had separated him.

“Ye’re the one who said ye wish tae see all the reports yerself,” Magnus said, but the exaggerated innocence with which he spoke those words only made Knox suspect him even more.

“Did ye dae in on purpose?” he asked.

“What?” Magnus asked, scoffing. “Nay. What does that even mean?”

“Ye did it on purpose.”

A short silence stretched between them before Magnus threw his hands up in the air. “What dae ye think ye’re doin’? I see ye, Knox. I ken what ye want, an’ I must warn ye that ye must put an end tae it right the now. If it was just about bedding her I’d nae say a thing, but I believe that’s nae the case.”

“So it was on purpose,” Knox insisted.

“Aye, o’ course it was!” Magnus said, more exasperated than Knox had seen him in a long time. “I didnae want ye tae be gallivantin’ around with Miss MacKenzie!”

“We werenae gallivantin’,” Knox protested, although he didn’t know what kind of word could describe what they were doing. “I was simply walkin’ her back tae her cottage.”

“Aye, is that all?” Magnus asked. “Naethin’ else happened?”

Knox didn’t even need to respond for Magnus to know the truth. The two of them knew each other well enough to have a mental catalogue of each other’s tells, and the moment he had asked the question, Knox had given himself away.

“See?” Magnus asked. “I kent it. Ye cannae hide it from me.”

“So what?” Knox demanded, leaning over his desk to stare at Magnus in a challenge. “What if I wanted tae take her back tae the cottage? What if I wanted tae kiss her?”

Magnus let out a long-suffering sigh as he collapsed back on his chair, all the air seemingly leaving him until he had completely deflated. “As I said, if this was naethin’ but a tryst, I wouldnae say a thing,” he said, shaking his head. “But I’ve seen how ye look at her. Ye’re very fond o’ her, are ye nae?”

Knox could hardly hide it. He was, indeed, very fond of Fia, to the point where he had even considered marriage—if only she had been born a noble girl.

“I am,” he admitted. “But that daesnae mean anythin’.”

“It daes,” Magnus insisted. “Ye ken the council will never allow somethin’ like this.”

Knox knew it well. He never expected his council to agree with such a marriage, and that was why any thought of it he had ever had about it was wishful thinking. Still, the idea clung in his mind like a leech clings to skin and it would not let him go.

“I ken that,” Knox reassured him. “I ken it. Dinnae fash. Let us talk about somethin’ else.”

He didn’t want to confront this truth just yet, not fully. For a while longer, he wanted to live in the fantasy that he could have Fia, that the two of them could have their happily ever after. It wasn’t only her looks or her wit which attracted him, though those attributes were attractive enough on their own. There was also that warmth about her and that vulnerability that she so often managed to hide, but which she just as often revealed around him. There was something special about it. There was something he could not resist.

And for as long as he could, he wanted to live in the belief that they could have something real.