Page 44 of Deception of a Highlander

He rose from his chair and approached her, eager to feel the softness of her body wrapped tightly in his arms, to ease the hurt of her eyes.

But she did not rush into his arms as he had expected, as other women would have done. She took a step back and shook her head vigorously.

“No…please…”

He paused, momentarily confused, and then a realization tore through him like the jagged blade of a dagger. He knew the reason she didn’t want his comfort.

“Yer pain…Jack is the cause, aye?” His hands clenched at his sides. Did he truly want the answer?

Shock reflected in her wide eyes and drained the color from her face. “How did you—”

“Ye spoke of him in yer sleep. Everything ye do is for him, ye said.” The days of wondering drew to a tumultuous peak, and bitterness seeped into his voice.

Her gaze hardened, but she did not look away. “You are correct, but not in the way you think.”

“And ye know what I’m thinking?” Deep down, he knew she did. Yet, he was fearful to hope and afraid of having the splinter of trust tamped down.

She took a step toward him and closed the cold gap she had widened between them. She rested against his forearm, hot against the chill on his skin. “I do, and it’s not what you suspect.”

* * *

Mariel let the comfortable quiet fill the space between them and waited for a stream of questions. They never came.

He gave her a courtesy she had not allowed him, could not afford to allow him. Silence and pleasure had been the weapons she’d used to draw the words from his lips. She had not counted on such a raw confession of emotion, nor had she been prepared for the intensity of the bond growing between them.

In a game where he was supposed to unveil his secrets, they had both inadvertently bared their souls.

Mariel wrapped her arms around the flimsy dress and shifted her gaze to the floor. Had he seen her for who she truly was? Had she revealed too much?

She wanted to look up and confirm her fears, yet she found she was afraid of what she would see.

“Blue always has been a fine color on ye.”

Startled, she jerked her head up and found him staring at her hands with a boyish smile.

She glanced down and laughed, giddy from the reprieve from the break in a conversation that ran too deep for comfort.

“We’ll have to have a dress made for ye with the wool ye dyed. The color suits yer eyes nicely.”

Mariel laughed again and allowed him to pull her woad-blue hands against the roughness of his palms. “Who knew you were such a flatterer, Kieran?”

“I’m sure flattery is something ye’re verra used to.” He paused in his inspection of her fingers and raised an eyebrow.

His hand closed over hers, and heat blossomed in her cheeks. “Not from you.” She glanced shyly up at him through the veil of her lashes.

He grasped her chin and tilted her face toward his. “Ye are the most fragile wee woman I have ever laid eyes on.”

Mariel’s brow furrowed. That was flattery? The compliment of her hands suddenly looked like a courtier’s praise.

“I’m no’ finished.” The grin that hovered on his face indicated he knew full well what she thought. The rogue. “Ye are the most fragile thing, and yet ye have a strength within ye that I’ve seen only in my warriors. I’ve no’ seen such spirit nor unyielding determination in any other woman.”

She had been expecting admiration for her fair skin or her unique eye color. ’Wasn’t that what men usually praised? But the compliment he offered took her aback.

He saw more in her than she saw in herself.

“Ye’re no’ so bad to look at either.” His gaze swept over her, unabashed with obvious appreciation.

His thumb brushed against the line of her jaw, and Mariel found herself smiling up at him.