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She was of the Highlands.

Orla had tried to deny it for too long, but she could not continue to do so any longer. Collin was clearly not the man of her dreams, and in fact, the only man in England who had managed to inspire any passion within her was Hamish. She almost laughed at the irony of it all; she had come all this way only to fall in love with a Highlander.

And there it was. The sly thought appeared as though it had always been there, a naked truth that glittered in the light of clarity. She loved him. It was so simple. The realization hit her with such force that she could hardly believe she had wasted so much time trying to convince herself otherwise. She cursed the hour for being late. She cursed herself for chasing him away. He had asked her himself if she wanted him to stay, and instead of crying out with glee and tethering him to herself, she had acted churlish and immature, giving him a snide comment, rather than the truth.

Well, that was no longer going to be the case. When morning dawned she was going to tell everyone the truth. Collin would learn that he was not going to win her hand in marriage, and Hamish would see how much that kiss meant to her. Now she just had to wait a few cruel hours until everything was right with the world. As soon as this thought settled in her mind, sleep overcame her, darkness swallowing her whole.

* * *

Orla was standing in the garden. She turned. Hamish was already there, except this time he was different. His gaze was the same, and his hair was unbound, brushing against his shoulders, his bare shoulders. She had only ever seen him clothed, but here he was, in the cool sunlight, as naked as the day he was born. Her eyes locked with his, and she was almost afraid to let them drop down his body, but in the end, she could not resist temptation. The air was thick with it and it swirled around her mind, creating havoc. Her breath slipped through trembling lips as she looked at the thick neck melting into the torso, the wide chest that was dusted with dark hair, and the muscles that rippled down his stomach. His biceps were large, his skin leathery, with a pattern of light freckles that reminded her of the stars in the sky. Heat radiated from him, and it sparked a reaction within her that took her by surprise. Her gaze continued down. Her throat tensed as she anticipated the sight of his erection, but before she could lay her eyes upon it, he took her hand and stepped towards her. Suddenly, she gasped, for she realized that she was naked too.

He looked at her body, and the curves that flowed all the way down and the rising breasts that swelled upon her chest. His hand touched her waist, guiding her towards him. His hands were hard and tough, his skin calloused from hard work in the Highlands, not soft like the English. He placed a finger underneath her chin and tilted her head up to look at him. There were those grey eyes again, drilling into her, peeling away all her inhibitions and leaving her this yearning girl, craving one thing and one thing alone.

“Ye are beautiful,” he said in his rolling Scottish burr. How had she ever believed that an Englishman could compare to him? He defined the essence of masculinity. She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, gently sliding it along the nape of his neck, when suddenly the fantasy turned to a nightmare. “But I cannae love ye,” he added. His words were a whisper and by this point, their lips had come so close they were almost kissing again, but he pulled back at the last instance. “I took ye advice. Ye are nae the only one who can fall in love with the English.”

Out of nowhere, another figure appeared, as though she had been conjured from the air around them. A hand wrapped around his chest and stomach, and then a head peeked out. It was Ethel, laughing with elation, although her eyes were sharp. She trained her spiteful gaze on Orla as she pressed her lips against Hamish’s chest, and then raised a hand to pull his neck down. Their kiss deepened, and all Orla could do was stand there stunned into silence, feeling helpless as she felt Hamish being pulled away from her.

No, Hamish. No!

She should have told him sooner. She should have… oh, it was all helpless now. He and Ethel turned and walked away from her, and it felt as though her feet were stuck in the mud, for she could not chase after them. They disappeared into the ether, and Orla was left alone.