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Alisdair turned to him. “Yer job is to take yer men and patrol the borders. Sinclair has allies to our east.”

Ewan gritted his teeth and cursed quietly, but didn’t contradict him.

“Gavin.” Alisdair turned to his right-hand man. “Make sure the castle is safe. Double patrols, everyone on high alert.”

“Aye, me Laird.”

One after the other, the men filed out of the study, leaving Alisdair alone.

He took a deep breath and dragged a hand down his face. All the bliss he had felt waking up with Isla in his arms turned sour in his mouth.

Determined, he sat back down at his desk and began preparing for an inevitable battle.

The castle was quiet in the dead of night, but Isla couldn’t find peace. She knew that Alisdair was locked up in his study, meeting with those in charge of various posts in the castle, demanding reports and issuing orders.

A hundred times she wanted to go to him, but she stopped herself just as many times. He needed to be focused and not distracted by her distress and fear. So, she simply waited in his room, curled up under his covers in her nightgown, her eyes pinned to the door.

Then she heard it—the heavy footsteps of a massive man, tired but alert. She sat up the moment the door opened, and Alisdair walked in. He paused, surprised to find her still awake.

“Ye should be sleepin’, Isla,” he urged.

“I tried.”

He went to sit on the bed and moved to take off his heavy boots. Isla climbed out of bed and knelt on the floor before him, intending to help him.

“Ye daenae have to do this,” he murmured. “I am nae yer uncle to have ye serve me.”

She looked up at him, a smile playing on her lips. “I ken, ye brute,” she teased. “I just daenae want ye to soil the floor.”

Alisdair chuckled, and his shoulders relaxed. “Did ye just claim me rooms, little rebel?”

“Nay,” she quipped. “Me rooms are better.”

She felt his heated gaze as she helped him take off his boots and heavier clothes. Then she brought the washbasin and a cloth to wash him.

“I could get used to this, wife,” he sighed, relaxing under her touch.

“It’s the least I can do, since…” she trailed off, looking down.

He captured her chin and forced her to look at him. She felt delicious heat rise inside her, the same one she felt every time their eyes locked.

“Isla?”

“He is coming, and it is me fault.” She bit her lip and exhaled. “Forgive me, Alisdair. When I rode here, I thought only of saving meself. I never thought⁠—”

“That day was the best day of me life, Isla.”

She gasped, looking deep into his stormy eyes.

“It is I who brought this upon ye,” she said, fighting back tears. “If I had never come⁠—”

“If ye had never come,” he cut in, pulling her into his lap, “Sinclair would have attacked anyway.”

Isla braced her hands on his broad shoulders. It would all have been easier if he looked… less appealing.

“And I, little rebel…” He leaned, his breath brushing her skin. “… wouldnae have had a reason to live after the fight.”

Her eyes widened in surprise.