Master of the Highlands(24)

While her other comments merely amused Ewen, the last remark somehow riled him, and the blue eyes that were carefree but a moment ago became suddenly steely. “A laird does not become truly powerful without compassion and understanding for his subjects. You ’ll not imply I do less than that.”

His chiseled jaw clenched. Lily spied a subtle change in Ewen ’s stance as his muscles flexed slightly. He appeared suddenly as the warrior he was, making her heart pound with fear and more than a little admiration.

“You ’re right, of course, Ewen.” Instinctively, she reached her hand out to touch his arm. The thick bicep beneath his shirt tensed into solid muscle, and Lily’s legs grew weak beneath her.

Her modern mind clung to logic—she needed to find her way home at all costs, to leave this place where a woman’s life was full of hardship, where girls were passed from father to husband with no rights of their own. Yet Lily’s body kept barging in on those rational thoughts, announcing loud and clear that equal rights were one thing, but a body had its own demands. A primal physical want seared through Lily, her reason unable to govern her traitorous body. She stammered, “I-I ’m sorry, I really do appreciate all you’ve done for me.”

Their eyes locked as the suddenly intimate moment seemed suspended in time.

The effect he had on her utterly dumbfounded Lily. Here she was, cooped up with some ferocious Highlander, and instead of focusing single -mindedly on getting back to her own life, she was quick to apologize and appease, like some sort of crushed-out schoolgirl. Inhaling deeply, she removed her hand and vowed to keep more control of herself.

Ewen, caught off guard by her familiar gesture, seemed to make the same internal declaration and was the first to break the strained silence. “As for work, if it pleases you, you ’ll be my son’s teacher. Every governess in my employ has either been a severe old carlin for John to torture, or a malleable lassie straight from home to be managed by John rather than the other way round.”

“So, I am halfway between a spinster and a trembling young girl? How pleasant,” Lily muttered.

“This will go much more pleasantly in general if you spare me your insolence. ” The twinkle in the laird ’s eye belied his stern words.

She couldn’t help but slip into these crackling exchanges with him. Was she losing it? What was she thinking becoming so comfortable with him? She had never had such an easy familiarity with a man in her life—how was it that she was suddenly at ease with some grim seventeenth-century warrior?

Ewen continued, “I haven’t told John more than he needs to know. He thinks you’re a distant relation from France, and the lad ’s not so keen with languages, so you’ll not worry yourself on that account. If your conjugations aren’t pretty, the lad won’t catch you in the lie. ”

“My conjugations are just fine, thank you. ” Despite her tone, Lily was distracted. Fabricating a preposterous cover story was one thing, but putting voice to the lie somehow made her situation feel real. Up until that point, she had been overwhelmed by the surreal and nightmarish quality of her situation. But this was her life, and she needed to get control of it. As he led her down the dark and twisting hallway, she made a conscious effort to keep her eyes off the sight of his powerful back, a rippling triangle of lean muscles that led down to his belted kilt. Instead, she tried to note every twist and turn of the low-ceilinged stone corridor. If the varying sizes and types of stone were any indication, several additions had been made to the original castle and the result was a confusing warren of back passages and dark corners.

Lily was engrossed, counting how many of the dimly lit wall sconces they had passed when she felt a wall of cold air hit her leg and foot as she abstractedly wondered just where the floor went.

The laird spun in time to catch her by the elbows and swing her up against a small rough-hewn doorway. She looked down to see a cavernous stairway winding down into blackness below.

Lily gasped at his touch. As he grabbed her, his hands had managed to push her sleeves up and they felt warm and powerful on her skin, yet his grip was gentle. He gave a quick squeeze, and Lily lifted her eyes to meet his. His features burned with a dark intensity, yet a mischievous hunger played at the corners of his smiling eyes. He wore a devilish grin, like a tiger eyeing prey that he planned to toy with before devouring.

A jolt of desire shot through Lily. She tried to fight it by crossing her arms purposefully across her chest. “Wh -what do you think you’re doing?”

“Easy lass. I can ’t let you fall down the stairwell. ” Ewen wrapped his arm tightly around her for emphasis.

Cocking an eyebrow, he said, “Who knows where you’d end up this time, aye?”

Their eyes locked, and Ewen encircled her more snugly in his embrace.

“I think I know how to walk down the stairs,” Lily managed breathily.

“I wouldn ’t be so sure, Lil’ ”. His voice was dangerously low. If she lost control for a moment, Lily thought she could be seduced by its husky timbre alone.

She realized in a panic that she ’d somehow become pinned snugly against the doorjamb with one of his iron -hard thighs trapped firmly between her legs.

Ewen slowly slid his hands down her arms and gently uncrossed them. Stroking his thumbs in her palms, he clasped her wrists and raised Lily’s hands over her head. Standing this close, she could see the faint stubble of his beard, dusted like charcoal along the strong line of his jaw, and she felt it as it scraped along the tender inside of her arm as he brought his face to hers.

“These stairs …” Ewen began. Lily felt the brief, shallow whispers of his breath on her cheek, and it was as if by not fully exhaling, Ewen could keep in check an avid lust that had overtaken him. “These stairs …they’re particularly treacherous. ”

“I … I can see that” — Lily’s words broke off with a gasp as Ewen shifted his hips, inadvertently skimming his leg along the cleft between her thighs. The rough linen of her petticoat grazed her tender skin, and Lily felt the answering flush of desire with a wet ache between her legs and the sudden exquisite chafe of fabric across her tightened breasts.

Her intellect was putting up a valiant fight but she was starting to give in to the wanting of him that pulsed deep in her. In one last effort to suppress the clamoring of her heart and body, Lily stammered, “B-but, Ewen, don ’t you think ”—

“Och, that’s precisely it, lass, ” Ewen growled in a voice thick with desire. He became suddenly—frighteningly—still.

Inhaling sharply, he rested his forehead on the damp stone above Lily’s shoulder. He turned his head slightly, just short of nuzzling her neck and, like a wild animal, breathed in her scent for what seemed to Lily like an eternity. Gathering himself, the laird lifted his head and, dropping her wrists, abruptly pulled away. “Aye, that’s it lass, it seems I ’m not thinking at all at the moment. ” His eyes were unable to meet hers and instead focused on some vague point below. “Shall we down the stairs then?”

The passion that had roiled within her only moments before just as violently flashed into anger. She was furious. Furious at her body for having such a traitorous reaction to the man. And furious at the man himself for bringing her to the brink of surrender only to pull back at the last moment. It had happened once before at the lake after she had injured her foot, and she vowed she would not let it happen again.

Lily glared at his profile and declared in the iciest and most clipped tone she could muster, “Yes. Let’s do continue.” Ewen became the stoic Highland warrior once again and, with a curt nod, led Lily through the door.