Page 91 of The Dragon Laird’s Obsession

He followed her without much thought.

The night air was cool against his face as he crossed the garden.

He found her beneath an old tree, seated on the grass with her skirts gathered around her. Moonlight silvered her hair as she spread a small cloth across her lap. A paintbrush rested between her fingers.

Gordon stopped because he wanted to savor the moment. She had not noticed him, and for several moments, he simply watched.

The garden was quiet. The distant music from the hall drifted faintly through the open doors, mingling with the soft sounds of the night.

Ailis dipped her brush into a little bowl then she began to paint.

Gordon remained in the shadows. He told himself he was there because Kerr might return.

Because she ought not be alone. Because he was her protector. Because there were dangers within these walls that required his vigilance.

All sensible reasons and all true. Yet none explained why his chest eased simply at the sight of her.

She hummed softly as she worked. Moonlight caught the curve of her cheek. A strand of hair slipped loose near her temple, and she brushed it away absently before returning to her painting.

Gordon found himself watching the movement of her hand. The quiet concentration upon her face and the small smile that appeared whenever she seemed pleased with a particular stroke.

He did not move or speak. He simply stood in the darkness and watched her paint by the moonlight.

I am here to protect her.

He repeated the thought again and again, hoping it was true.

Yet some treacherous part of him knew the truth.

If protection were the only reason, he would have called for a guard. He would have returned to the courtyard and joined the bonfire dance. Instead, he stayed here, content simply to watch her exist beneath the moonlight.

Ailis found Gordon in the yard the next day, or rather, Lileas found him first.

“There!” The little girl tugged eagerly at Ailis’ hand.

Gordon stood near the training ground with Rowan and Malcolm, a sword in his hand as he worked through a series of movements with one of the younger warriors. His shirt clung to his shoulders, his red hair damp from exertion.

Ailis looked away at once. She had been doing her best to keep her distance from him.

It had become necessary, given that whenever he was near, she seemed to forget common sense, including how to breathe.

After the other day at the pavilion, after all those stolen glances and moments when his eyes seemed to linger too long, she had decided that the safest thing was to stop giving him opportunities to confuse her.

Lileas, however, had other ideas. She carried a tiny yellow flower in both hands and headed straight for Gordon before Ailis could stop her.

Gordon was focused on his training with Malcolm and his brother, and he handled them both with ease, spinning his sword with skill and dodging every blow from them.

They paused to rest for a bit, and Ailis crouched in front of Lileas, who was holding some wildflowers and grinning at her.

“For the Laird.”

Ailis smiled. “Then ye must give it to him,” she said while ruffling Lileas’ hair.

“I want ye to come with me.”

Ailis sighed. “Very well.”

They crossed the yard together, and Gordon noticed them almost immediately.