Page 44 of A Highland Bride Disciplined

He smelled like sin, and it made her knees weak. The grip he had on her waist moved to her thighs as he flexed his arms and lifted her so that her legs could wrap around his hips.

And in that endless, burning moment, there was no keep. No clan. No crying child or cruel memory.

Just his mouth on hers, and the quiet, broken ache of two people who’d been starving for each other.

8

Kian stood on the battlements just after dawn, the chill wind biting through his tunic. Below, the courtyard bustled with early movement of boots on stone, carts rolling in from the village, the clang of pails, and the sharp whistle of the cook’s apprentice. None of it cut through the noise in his head.

That kiss.

Bloody hell.

It had been foolish. Reckless, even. He’d meant to assert himself. To take control of a spiraling conversation. He’d meant to silence her. And instead, he’d let her into his chest, his mouth, his thoughts. She lingered there like a fine wine. She tasted just as sharp and addictive, and he would certainly fill his cup to the brim if the situation kept going the way it had been.

Kian clenched the edge of the stone wall.

He never lost control. He just didn’t.

Except, apparently, around her.

“She’s like a curse,” he hissed under his breath.

Behind him, the heavy tread of boots announced Tam’s approach. Kian didn’t turn, just said, “Did ye speak wit’ the steward about the nursemaid candidates?”

“Aye. Three have been summoned for interview. Two from the village, and one from Glenlorne.” Tam joined him at the parapet, squinting toward the mist-laced hills. “The Glenlorne lass comes well-recommended.”

“Good,” Kian said. “Make sure the staff vets them thoroughly. I’ll want yer thoughts as well before Lady Scarlett sees them.”

Tam gave a curt nod. “And the other thing?”

Kian exhaled. “Aye. That too.”

Tam didn’t need more than that. He waited.

“I want ye to speak with the servants. Quiet-like,” Kian said. “Ask if anyone’s heard whisper of a woman in trouble. A birth in secret. Someone missin’ from the village for a few days, mayhap.”

“Ye think the maither might be local?” Tam asked.

“I think someone out there kens more than they’re sayin’.” Kian rubbed his jaw. “And if the note was true, and she truly feared for her life, then whoever forced her hand might still be nearby.”

Tam’s expression hardened. “I’ll speak with the kitchens and stable hands today.”

“Discreetly.”

“I’m always discreet,” Tam said, though his scarred brow arched in challenge.

Kian allowed a short grunt. “The bairn’s too quiet. Too well-mannered for an abandoned child. She’s been loved. She’s been taught to trust. This was nae just a cast-off. Someone left the bairnherekennin’ we’d take her in.”

Tam studied his laird. “That bother ye?”

Kian didn’t answer. Not directly.

Instead, he turned from the parapet. “Where’s Scarlett now?”

Tam hesitated.

“What is it?”