Cassian (The Immortal Highland Centurions #2) - Jayne Castel Page 0,19

timid the first time they’d met, but he’d enjoyed seeing her gain confidence as he earned her trust.

Thoughts of Lilla made Cassian clench his jaw. So much time had passed, and yet he still compared every woman to her. These days, however, when he closed his eyes, he had difficulty recalling her face. He remembered that she was blonde and pretty, and that her eyes had been blue—but the cast of her features now escaped him.

Heaviness pressed down upon him as he dwelled upon this fact.

Draco was deliberately goading him, and he knew why. Cassian had grown far too serious of late; his quest to solve the riddle consumed him. They were so close now that he’d become blinkered. He went about his days taking charge as Captain of the Dunnottar Guard, yet his mind was always on that last line of the riddle and the curse that held him and his friends fast.

“For the love of Mithras, don’t look so serious about it,” Draco spoke up once more. He wore a slightly disgusted expression now. “Not all women want to shackle themselves to you. Some can just be enjoyed.”

Cassian cast him a rueful look. “And you think a lass like Aila would take kindly to being enjoyed?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Hades, now you’re turning into a monk? Next you’re going to start telling me to repent my sins.”

Cassian snorted a laugh, the tension between them easing. “I wouldn’t waste my breath … you enjoy them too much.”

He glanced over at where Aila was now talking to her sister, Heather.

Draco was probably right. He should relax a little. Comparing every woman to his long-dead wife was pointless. He hadn’t taken a lover in a while, and the strain was starting to show. After Lilla’s passing, he’d enjoyed a string of women—most of them blonde and blue-eyed like his wife—in an effort to lessen Lilla’s loss. Unsurprisingly, it had only made him feel worse.

Cassian frowned, his mood shadowing once more. Maybe it was time to break the drought. Aila De Keith wasn’t the right choice though. An infatuated lass would only cause him trouble.

“Are ye enjoying the dancing?” Heather was pink-cheeked and still slightly out of breath. “I swear there isn’t a tune those musicians don’t know.”

“Aye … it’s a fine evening,” Aila replied, tightening her grip upon her goblet of wine. Six songs had passed since her dance with Cassian, and still the captain had not returned to her side to ask her for another. “The best Beltaine I remember.”

Her voice was brittle, as she couldn’t hide her disappointment. This evening certainly was one to remember; never had she swung from such elation to disappointment so wildly. Initially, she’d felt ignored and unwanted, and then when Cassian had danced with her, her spirits had soared. But in the aftermath, she actually felt worse than before. Her chest and belly ached, and she felt a little queasy.

Sensing her mood, Heather stilled. “I am sorry,” she said softly. “I know ye wish he’d show ye more attention.”

Aila swallowed. “Well, ye did try to warn me,” she replied, looking away. Actually, she desperately wanted her sister to leave her alone. Cassian was more likely to approach her again if she was on her own. And the last thing she wanted was her sister’s pity.

Heather didn’t understand what it was to long for someone like she did for Cassian.

“Maybe this is for the best,” Heather continued, her tone still gentle. “Ye need to move past this, Aila. Ye deserve to have men vying for yer hand … let them pursue ye.”

Aila’s grip upon the stem of the goblet tightened further, and she clenched her jaw. She wished Heather would leave her be.

A short while later, Heather did just that. Their mother called her over to where she was sitting with a group of other wives—women who weren’t interested in joining in the dancing.

Mercifully, Aila found herself alone once more.

Her gaze moved across the swirling crowd of dancers to where Cassian had resumed his conversation with Draco.

A knot formed just under her breast bone—and it was slowly squeezing tighter with each passing moment.

She knew she should look elsewhere, yet her attention remained upon Captain Gaius. He leaned against the wall as he spoke to his friend, one hand clasping a goblet. She’d noted what lovely hands he had a long time ago—strong, with long fingers. His touch tonight had felt even better than she’d imagined it would; he’d danced with confidence, and she’d been safe