She hesitated, wondering what he hoped she would say and wondering, too, just how strongly she did care for him. A short while before, facing her father on his entrance to the room across the hall, Fin had been all that she could think about.
She had feared for him, feared what Shaw might have said to him, and feared that Fin might never forgive her for making him face her father in such a way.
The truth was that she loved being with Fin. He fascinated her, he made her think about things that she had rarely considered before, and he listened to her. He made her opinions seem worthy, even interesting.
His beautiful eyes let her see straight to his thoughts whenever he allowed it, and he had ways of looking at her that she could feel to her very soul.
But what did she know of him other than what he had revealed to her? And how fair would it be to let him think she cared enough to marry him but not enough to ride off with him and live among strangers… enemies… when he had to leave her?
“May I ask you a question, sir?”
“Aye, anything,” he said.
“Anything? Sakes, but you say that so easily. Do you not fear that someone may ask you a question so personal that you have never had the courage to share its answer with anyone? Most people do have such personal secrets, after all.”
There was, briefly, an arrested look in his eyes. But it vanished and he said, “I will answer any question that you ask me if I can, personal or otherwise.”
She watched him carefully, determined to note his every move and catch his slightest expression, so that she could accurately judge his response. Then she said, “Have you told me everything about yourself that I should know?”
Fin considered her question and how he should answer it, nearly smiling at how quickly she’d fulfilled her father’s prediction that she would call him to account.
Shaw had been right in saying that she would have to know about his family. Fin knew that would have to tell her more about himself, too, because sooner or later he would take her to Loch Arkaig and she would see that the original seat of the Mackintosh was also the original home of Fin Cameron.
Recalling Ivor’s description of her as a wildcat, he suspected that fur and claws would likely fly when they did have that talk. So to have it now would be unwise. Only when he could be private with her without fear of interruption would he tell her all that she wanted to know.
He would not do so where Ivor or James might walk in or where she could easily walk off, bolt her door, and refuse to talk to him.
At last, seeing clear signs of impatience in her expression, he said, “Cat, sheathe your claws. I cannot possibly have told you all that you may want to know about me. I can think of two or three things straight off that I cannot tell you because they relate to people who would take a dim view of my sharing their confidences with you. I’ll admit, too, that there are things that I have not told you as a friend that I would feel obliged to tell you under other circumstances.”
“What circumstances? You cannot mean that you would tell an enemy.”
He waited, knowing how quick she was, and she did not disappoint him.
“You mean if I do agree to… if we… that is if you were to…”
“Just answer my question,” he said quietly when she faltered. “Did what you said to Rothesay reflect feelings that you do have for me, or did you lie to him?”
Visibly swallowing, she said, “I think I may regret saying this, but I… I believe that there may be some truth to what I said. Still—”
His heart leaped, startling him with the surge of emotion and more physical responses that coursed through him. “Art sure, lass?” he asked, hearing his voice crack on the words. “Recall before you answer me that you did apologize to me and tell me that you had said it only to make Rothesay leave you alone.”
“Must you contradict even my half-formed thoughts, sir, and use my own words against me when you do?”
He took a step toward her, realized that he had done so impulsively, and recollected himself to say, “I am not contradicting you. I just need to