Page 29 of Highland Spy

“Whisky,” Connor said.

He was perfection in the firelight. Shadows etched his jaw while the light softened his face, his lips. The powerful lines of his chest were visible at the neck of his léine, as well as a dark peppering of small curling black hairs.

“Whisky,” Ariana said with a forced stare at the cup instead of him. “Of course. I drink this all the time.”

“Aye, I knew that about ye. When I first saw ye, I thought, ‘Now there’s a lass who can handle her whisky.’” Connor winked at her with disarming playfulness. “It’ll do ye some good. Take off the chill and settle yer thoughts.”

“Why do you assume my thoughts are unsettled?” she asked.

He took a swallow from his cup. “Because sleep comes easily to those without weight on their minds.”

Ariana took a careful sip from her own cup, the way she’d seen men at the card tables drink. The liquid burned like sin down her throat and caught in her chest.

She gritted her teeth and swallowed hard several times to keep from sputtering.

Though she’d hoped to keep her reaction discreet, the grin on Connor’s face told her he saw through her guise.

“It’s good.” Her voice came out in a croak and Connor laughed. It was a warm, rich sound and she found it terribly pleasing.

His eyes crinkled. “Now that we’ve discovered yer love of whisky, why dinna ye tell me what’s got yer thoughts heavy?”

Uncertainty warred in her thoughts. This was the man who trained her in combat, who pushed her harder and demanded toughness. And now he was asking her to be vulnerable, to share her innermost thoughts.

Could he mean it?

Those hazel eyes of his rested on her, fixing her with his full attention.

Yes, he did.

Heat stirred in her chest and made her stomach flutter.

Part of her wanted to open up to him. It was the part which had imagined his kiss in her mind and made her think on it far more often than she should. But there was another part of her, one which wanted his respect and demanded the world think her stronger than she thought even herself.

Could she let herself open up to him?

Chapter 7

Connor watched the emotions play out over Ariana’s face, the furrow of uncertainty on her brow, crinkling a small line where her face had been smooth and honest before. Ariana didn’t trust him.

But then, he didn’t blame her, considering the circumstances which had led her into his care in the first place.

He had taken her from everything she knew, everything she wanted.

Guilt was a familiar companion to him.

Connor was about to tell her she didn’t need to speak when she pulled in a soft breath.

“It’s Liv,” she confessed. “Percy tries so hard to help, and I do too, but I don’t think it’s enough.”

“Why do ye say that?”

Ariana lifted the cup to her lips and took a sip of her whisky. This time she did not flinch. “She’s not getting better. She’s getting worse. No one’s saying it. But deep down, we all know.” A pained look pinched her brows. “She knows.”

What Ariana said was true—there was no denying it. But Connor said nothing. He’d been around women long enough to know they needed time to say what lingered on their minds, and once they were no longer burdened, they felt better.

If only it were so easy for men.

“I’ve seen women with child before,” Ariana continued. “They’re plump and glowing with excitement. But not Liv. She fades more every day, grows weaker every day. The little bump where her baby grows…” Her gaze lowered. “It’s so pathetic and small.”