Page 59 of Deception of a Highlander

A clap of thunder sounded overhead with a force that rattled the dishes on the shelves. Kieran peered out the small window. Drops had not yet begun to fall, but the dark clouds overhead were angry, and the air crackled with the impending storm. If they left now and pushed the horses, they could arrive at the castle before the rain started.

“We need to go. I need to be back, and dinna want to get trapped in the storm. But this conversation isna over, aye?”

“It never is,” she said with a good-natured smile. “You could stay here. Both of you could.” Her eyes lit with a hope that tugged at Kieran’s heart.

He knew she was lonely. He also realized that the time she’d spent with Mariel had reminded her how lonely she truly was. All the more reason for her to come live in the castle with the majority of their clan. But that was a point to bring up another time. For now, he and Mariel needed to leave.

“I wish we could stay, but we must to return.” He lowered his voice. “Mariel and I have a conversation left unfinished. I’d like to speak with her privately.” He glanced up at Mariel and caught her staring at him from her spot on the floor. She quickly dropped her gaze and bent over a carved sheep with a feigned preoccupation that didn’t fool him.

Blair looked between him and Mariel with an infuriating grin on her face. “Don’t let me stop you.” She rested her hand on his forearm and gazed up at him with a wide, earnest gaze. “Please promise you’ll bring her back here again. Soon.”

“Aye, I promise.” His words were almost drowned out by another crack of thunder, pressing the urgency of their departure.

* * *

Kieran squinted his eyes against the driving force of the rain and scanned the horizon through his blurred vision. Lightning slashed through yellow-gray skies, followed by another crash of thunder. The spitting precipitation had turned into fat droplets that stung his face and made seeing difficult.

The castle was still quite a distance away. He considered their options to gauge if they could push their horses forward and beat the worst of the storm or if they should seek shelter nearby.

A chip of ice bounced off his knuckle. Several more frozen chunks descended from above and sprang harmlessly from the flanks of their horses.

He had seen storms like this before and knew the hail could reach sizes as large as his fist. The chances were slim, but certainly not what he was willing to risk.

Their salvation lay at the base of the hill in the distance, in the small white building he could just make out. They could be there in minutes.

“Mariel!” he bellowed over the howling storm and jerked his head toward the hut.

She nodded from beneath the plaid covering her head and snapped her reins.

The horses needed little encouragement and streaked across the landscape as the chunks of ice grew larger. When the house was a stone’s throw away, Kieran halted his horse and leapt from the saddle. A makeshift shelter with a slatted roof sat off to the side.

Mariel slid from her saddle and ran toward the house while he gathered the horses, their reins slick and waterlogged beneath his palm. Hail popped against the roof of the crude stable.

Once he was satisfied the horses were safe and secure, he darted into the house and slammed the door shut against the deafening roar of the storm. Mariel stood with her back to him, facing the smoldering hearth she had stoked to life. The smoky scent of peat permeated the room with a warm comfort that reminded him of his boyhood days.

Her soft voice was loud in the heavy silence of the room. “Does someone live here?”

“They did, but no’ anymore. I believe this was Duncan’s home. He was getting on in age and moved to the castle for convenience.” Kieran strode around the room, checking for cracks and leaks, the scuff of his shoes echoing in the open room.

Despite the storm’s strength, the thatch roof did not let in any water, nor did the blustering wind appear to be seeping in. Kieran ran his fingers over the smooth wooden shutters to ensure their strength and nodded to himself with satisfaction. Their shelter was in good repair and would do well as they waited out the storm.

He kicked his toe against a pile of hay in the corner and saw no movement. Another good sign. If the hay was free of vermin, they would not need to sleep on the floor if the storm raged on through the night.

He joined Mariel in front of the hearth, and the comfortable warmth of the fire bloomed against his chest. Her damp hair had begun to dry and hung in soft, dark waves against her porcelain skin. Her gaze, he noticed, was fixed on the curl of smoke rising from the glowing peat.

Kieran gently pulled Mariel’s plaid from her shoulder to dry. She jerked away and gave a startled gasp, and then a sheepish smile lit her face.

“Sorry,” she murmured and handed him the length of sodden wool.

She had turned her attention back to the fire with her lower lip tucked between her teeth. While the storm had been unexpected, he was grateful for the opportunity to spend time with her. Uninterrupted. Alone.

A chill ran down Kieran’s back and prickled the flesh on his arms. If he were going to be warm any time soon, he would need to get out of his wet clothing. Heat spread through his groin. They both would.

Anticipation fired through him as he imagined pulling the clinging fabric from her skin. He kicked off his soggy boots and peeled the leine over his head. Her creamy skin would glow like a pearl in the soft light, with every beautiful curve bared for his appreciation.

He glanced over to find her still staring into the hearth, and something heavy pressed within his chest.

Her gaze was unseeing, her lips pursed together, and her brow furrowed. Something weighed on her mind, and he knew exactly what it was.