Page 20 of Hunted By the Hard Highlander

His plants were a problem he would deal with after he got Aurora back inside.

* * *

Aurora clicked her tongue as she opened a cabinet only to be greeted with rows of meticulously organized jars and vials. It was the second that she had come across, and while she could appreciate how prepared Hendry was, it was frustrating that she could not find anything else. None of this made sense to her.

“I ken he keeps twine in here,” she muttered, shutting the cabinet as she stood. Her eyes lingered on the plants in varying states of drying pinned to the walls and the ceiling. “How else would he hang those herbs? Or perhaps he is insane enough to keep his twine in the castle rather than in this cabin? I daenae think somethin’ like that would surprise me.”

After spending the better part of her day working on a new embroidery project at Adair’s bedside and doing nothing else, she simply could not take the stillness any longer. By the time Isabella had arrived to give her brother one of his final treatments, Aurora had been fidgeting in her chair, her energy demanding to be expressed in any way it could be. She knew that she was meant to be resting, but surely it could not be good for her health to lie about when she felt well.

So, she had slipped out of the room while Isabella was occupied, and no one had seen her as she entered the gardens.

“I daenae understand that man.” Aurora slid another drawer open, scoffing when she was greeted with an almost neurotic assortment of pens, parchment, and adhesive for labeling the jars. The organization would be impressive if it made any sense. “Surely he doesnae need all of these.”

It is nae wonder he is so difficult to speak with. If this is what the inside of his mind looks like, we are never goin’ to understand one another.

Finally, after opening two more drawers in the sizable workbench, she found more balls of twine than one person could possibly need. It seemed to be the theme when it came to his storage system. “If he dinnae have so many of these, he could put them somewhere intuitive.”

With a ball of twine in hand, she found a bucket in the corner of the single-room cabin. Nudging it across the floor with her foot, she positioned the bucket just below a pair of scissors. As carefully as she could, she climbed on top of it, standing on her tiptoes to retrieve them.

These cannae be the ones he uses, but I cannae spend any more time goin’ through all of these drawers. I will drive meself insane.

She was so caught in cursing Hendry’s organization in her head that she nearly tipped over at the sound of the door being thrown open and knocking against the wall.

Aurora turned toward the doorway when she had mostly regained her balance, her heart pounding. Standing there, illuminated by the afternoon light, was Hendry with his arms crossed over his chest. There was an unmistakable look of irritation on his face, his frown severe and his brows knitted together. Frustration seemed to radiate off of him in waves.

I should have been payin’ better attention. I should have heard him approachin’.

“What do ye think ye are doin’ out here after ye have been ordered to rest?” he demanded, seeming to make himself even larger in front of her. It was an attempt to make her back down, but she refused to let him intimidate her, not even as he walked into the cabin. “Ye have disobeyed me orders.”

“I will lose more strength lyin’ in bed than I will fixin’ the plants,” she argued, her feet shifting beneath her. She could not explain to anyone, not even herself, why his presence ignited such a resistance inside her. “And if ye have been busy, wouldnae it be wise of ye to allow someone else to look after the garden?”

The bucket rocked, and she threw her hands out in an attempt to catch her balance. Her legs shook, a desperate and instinctual motion that did nothing to correct the extreme wobble. It was not enough, though. Even as she tried to catch the wall to keep herself upright, she knew that it was no use.

She would be hitting the floor hard.

Closing her eyes, she braced herself for the inevitable crash, her arms coming up to cover her face. The impact never came, though. Instead, strong arms wrapped around her, and a muscular chest cushioned her fall, absorbing the worst of the blow. For several long moments, she lay in place, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

It felt as if time had frozen, or perhaps she was simply struggling to wrap her mind around how she had ended up here.

Then, suddenly, the solid wall of muscle against her cheek vibrated with a rich, deep laughter that surprised her. The sound itself was jarring enough, but when she remembered who it was coming from, she wondered if she had not fainted once more. This did not feel real.

She did not think she was creative enough to imagine something like this, though.

Hendry should be even more upset with her than he already was, yet it seemed like the frustration was leaving him with each chuckle. His body relaxed, his chest becoming less of a rigid line and more of a comfortable place to land. Apparently, it did not matter that she had disobeyed him, or even that she was the reason the two of them were sprawled on the floor. Tilting her head up, she felt like she was seeing him for the first time.

The smile he wore made him even more handsome, highlighting the sharp cut of his cheekbone. His masculine features were made more severe, stealing the breath directly out of her lungs. The light that streamed through the window caught his lashes. For a moment, she forgot where she was.

He reminded her of the Greek gods in the myths Adair liked her to read. But he was so much better than the words in those books. He was real, his body warm and solid under hers.

When Aurora remembered their positions, the fact that she was lying fully on top of Hendry, she pushed herself upright wildly. She tried to scramble away, but Hendry caught her wrist. His fingers were tight but not unkind, not allowing her any opportunity to escape.

Before she could fully register what was happening, the way the situation was escalating, he flipped their positions. When she landed on her back with a quiet huff, he let go of her. Both of his palms landed on the floor, pressed on either side of her head. She was caged in, completely at his mercy.

Even as her brain told her to roll away, her body was locked in place, not heeding to any of her mind’s orders. She was not even sure if she wanted to move. This felt right. She did not know how to admit it to herself.

Almost immediately, the last dregs of laughter were sucked from the room. The only sound was the muffled birdsong coming from the trees outside, and their breath mingling. Tension slowly began to smolder, in the inches separating them. It was like a fire had been lit, and it was going to consume them both.

She could not draw air into her lungs, and it had nothing to do with last dredges of illness that clung to her being.