Highland Escape - Cathy MacRae Page 0,47
I will not travel further down this path. I will keep my emotions in control. She squelched the small voice inside her. It is NOT too late!
She spotted Duncan at the stable, waiting as promised. Dismounting several yards away, she made a show of cooling Orion, not yet ready to speak. Seeing the man addled her wits. The words she’d formed in her mind now lay tangled on her tongue. He smiled at her. Damn! How does he reduce me to a hen-brained fool?
“Was yer ride helpful?”
“Not very. I think Orion got more out of it than me. I did come to the conclusion you are right.”
He angled his head. “How so?”
“You were right about Shamus. He would have kept coming until I agreed to fight.” She held his gaze firmly, previously unknown feelings eroding her control.
“’Tis the truth. I am sorry ’tis so, but ’tis done. Ye have shown yer mettle to the clan. Ye will be completely accepted now.”
“How can that be? He was a clansman. I am a Lowlander, an outsider—English.” She said the last with a distaste she realized she meant.
Her favorite smile returned, tilting the corners of Duncan’s expressive lips. “Everyone knows what ye did for Nessa and Isla. They think ’tis a good omen to have such a hero in our midst. Aye, Shamus was a clansman, but one who was only tolerated. He was a man with few friends.”
This reminded her of the guilt of killing him. “What about his family?”
Shaking his head, Duncan replied, “Nae, there will be none. Shamus lived with his brother. Neither married, mostly because no sensible woman would have either of them.” He chuckled.
The thought of any woman putting up with Shamus brought the hint of a smile to her lips also. Her quandary about Duncan returned. Her brow furrowed.
“What bothers ye still?” His tone was soft and low.
Taking a deep breath, Anna struggled to answer. She was not possessed of her own mind, and her feelings cascaded out of control. How could she possibly explain it?
“I am confused.” It didn’t say much, but at least it was the truth.
“May I assist with yer confusion?”
Anna shot him a wary look. “I doubt it.”
With a puzzled look, he asked, “Why not?”
Uncertainly roiled through her, the fear of rejection hard on its heels. She took another deep breath and braced herself before answering. “Because I am confused about you.”
Understanding swept across his face. He tilted his head back. “Ach. I see. So which part is confusing? Ye embracing me, my words, or how ye feel about it?”
“All of it.” Anna kept her attention on brushing Orion, but her stomach fluttered and her heart set a rapid pace, leaving her lightheaded.
“Well, start with the embrace. How did it make ye feel?”
His tone remained calm, as if speaking to a jittery horse. A good analogy, given her present state of mind and half-willingness to bolt without further comment. Could she risk telling him this? He’d not laughed at her yet, nor spurned her. She wrestled with speaking the truth.
“Good. It felt good.” Her voice a whisper, Anna stopped the pretense of brushing her horse, and gazed past him, unable to make eye contact.
“Might I try again?” He gently turned her chin to face him.
A burning lump in her throat kept her from answering. She nodded. Slowly, he brought his arms around her waist and embraced her. Anna stiffened. As his heat surrounded her, she softened and returned the hug. He smelled of leather, horses and something unique to him. His breath on her ear created a wave of shivers as he nuzzled her hair. She brought her cheek down upon his shoulder, fully relaxing into his arms, eyes closed.
“How does this feel?”
Anna sighed, considering his question. “Good,” she whispered. How did it feel? Good seemed an inadequate response. She searched for a better answer. “I feel safe, content.”
He shifted one of his hands and cradled the back of her neck. He rubbed the muscles there, easing her tension. He traced the patterns on her shoulders and arms, exposed from the tear in her tunic.
“How about the words I find ye unbelievably beautiful, and am proud to have ye as my friend?”
Chewing her lower lip, Anna considered this more risky than the hug. However, she found courage in his embrace. “Other than my father, no one has ever told me I am beautiful. I do not believe it to be true. Every father thinks his daughter is beautiful. You being proud of me,