Page 49 of Guarding Salvation

They came to a fork, and he pointed his light to the left. “That leads to my father’s office. There’s a door behind his bookshelf.”

Her hand squeezed his and he glanced back to see her smiling from ear to ear. “What were these used for?”

“When the castle was built, Scotland was at war with England. They built the tunnels so the noble families wouldn’t get trapped if there was an attack.”

“Wow, this is so cool.”

He stopped to point his phone at the wall as they rounded a sharp bend. “See this?” He pointed out the markings he knew by heart, his finger running over them, almost feeling the history in the walls. “This is the crest of King James II of Scotland. He was led through these tunnels to safety when his father King James I was assassinated. His mother, Queen Joan, then got to him and he was crowned King at the age of six.”

He watched Aoife touch the markings with reverence and knew she understood the magnitude of the history here. “If these walls could talk.”

“I know. I have hundreds of stories passed down from my father, not all of them show our ancestors in the best light but they’re our history.”

“I don’t think there’s a person on the planet who can say they’re proud of every action their kin have taken if you go back far enough.”

“No, I think that’s right.”

“Why didn’t you want to rule the Estate or whatever the right term is?” They continued walking as he led her through and around the maze of tunnels, pointing out different markings.

“Honestly, for a long time I never felt worthy and then it was overwhelming. If you could see the way the people loved my father you’d understand. I didn’t want the responsibility of it all and it had been heaped on my shoulders from such a young age. I would’ve done it. I was going to take my place and do what was expected, and then my life took a turn I wasn’t expecting, and it all went to hell.”

Bram hated talking about this, hated remembering his failure. How he’d let his family down. His throat clogged as he tried to find the words to explain it all, to tell the woman he cared about how he was no better than a common criminal, how he’d killed a man in cold blood with his rage, and worse, he’d do it again.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

He pulled her to the exit of the tunnels, his movements more urgent now as he felt the walls close in around him, his breaths coming faster. Pushing out into the cold, fresh air of the night, he sucked in a lungful of oxygen, letting the outdoors calm him in a way nothing else could.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I do. I just can’t right now.”

Aoife laid a hand on his back and her touch grounded him. “I understand, Bram. God knows there are things I can’t talk about, and you’ll get no judgement from me. So, if and when you’re ready, I’ll listen, but if not that’s okay too.”

Looking down at her in wonder, he wondered what good he’d done in life for the universe to send him such an amazing person. His fingertips skimmed her lips, and he heard the sharp intake of her breath. “Where did you come from?”

“Same place as you, I guess.”

“I feel like every second with you is a blessing I don’t deserve and yet I wouldn’t swap a single minute of it for a lifetime with someone else.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Bram.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make you cry. Was it that cheesy?”

“So cheesy, like double mozzarella and cheddar, but also the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Can I ask, though, why put me in the room with a tunnel? Weren’t you afraid I might find it?”

“Because I never want you to feel trapped again, Aoife. I want you to know you always have a way to get out, to run if you feel if you have to.”

Her hiccupped sob stole his breath as she leaned into him. Bram kissed her, slow heat building between them in the cool of the night.

“I want you, Bram.”

“Thank fuck.”

He led her up the stairs quickly, bypassing his own room in favour of hers, knowing she felt comfortable there.

Locking the door with the key, he led her to the fire, leaving her to sit in the chair while he stoked the flames. Standing, he moved toward where she sat on the chaise and gazed down at her. Cupping her cheek, his thumb rubbed over her bottom lip before pushing into her mouth. Closing her eyes, she sucked his thumb deep, making him wish it was his cock and a hiss escaped him at the vision in front of him, so seductive and perfect.

Her eyes opened, heavy-lidded desire, the jade almost emerald in the firelight. He could watch her all night and never get sick of the sight or feel of her.