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C ampbell wished he could deny his surprise at the lassie’s sudden burst of determination, but he would be a liar, and he detested dishonest men.

He also couldn’t deny how her stubbornness stoked the fires of desire that had been burning in his belly since he had seen her throw her head back in laughter.

She had cared for the boys as well as anyone would have, and the image of her tucking them into bed had painted a picture of a future he could have if he chose to marry.

The lass was full of surprises, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that she had lied and risked his clan’s safety with her foolishness. He would not marry a lass with such questionable habits, no matter how beautiful she was.

He had his heirs now, after all, so there was no need to marry.

His primary focus would be on his brother’s children.

He would do everything in his power to provide for them and ensure that they grew into healthy, strong men.

But a lass with such questionable habits would not do, not even if she had succeeded where others had failed.

Anger flooded him again as he realized that she had more time with his brother in adulthood than he had.

“Questionable habits?” she echoed.

Her eyes were wide and questioning, and the sheer sweetness of her expression cooled the heat in his blood.

How could such a slight woman have so much power?

“Aye,” he answered, stepping away from her before he did something silly, like touching her again.

His body still burned from the earlier contact—a lapse in judgment that he had been unable to avoid. He didn’t like not seeing the range of emotions flashing in her forest-green eyes, and his hand had moved before he had been able to think better of it.

“Ye helped Aidan and Layla elope, and ye’ve nay doubt sneaked out of yer home to see the bairns. Yer concern for others is admirable, but yer actions are irresponsible,” he added when the confused look still hadn’t left her face.

She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out, and he took it to mean that she had understood, even if she did not agree with his point.

He didn’t care for her agreement. He had to protect his clan from a possible war, and that included ensuring that she was returned home unharmed, with as little information leaking.

He already knew of his reputation among the Highlanders as a ruthless, war-hungry beast, and while he didn’t mind it, he didn’t want to be known as a dishonorable scoundrel who ruined the virtue of young maidens, regardless of whether he had done anything.

He had learned quickly that the truth didn’t matter to people. They believed only what pleased them, even if the truth was staring them in the face.

“I thank ye for yer help with them, but me maids can take care of them from now till we find a governess,” he continued.

“Ye may visit once they are well enough to nae be bothered by yer departure, but I dinnae want them hurting any more than they already are. I will find a governess to see to their needs until they learn to trust me, but ye dinnae have to worry for their welfare. They are me blood, and I willnae treat them less.”

“Me Laird, ye cannae?—”

“I will write to yer faither, and he will come escort ye home on the morrow. I expect ye will inform them that I have done naught to taint yer virtue,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Her eyes were alight with frustration that she would be dismissed easily, and the fire in them teased him dangerously. He needed to put distance between them because even if they were more than five feet apart from each other, she was still much too close for comfort.

“I can return home meself. I dinnae need me faither to escort me,” she protested, finally getting her words out. “Ye can send one of yer men with me.”

“I dinnae trust ye enough to believe ye willnae spin a tale and trigger a war between our clans, and I willnae let a maiden roam the Highlands unattended,” he responded. “Ye were lucky nae to have been attacked by brigands the first time. A second time may nae be guaranteed.”

“Ye just dinnae want me blood on yer hands.” She frowned.

“Ye arenae wrong,” he answered. “But it will be more than yer blood at stake. I willnae endanger me clan.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes stubbornly. “Ye’re just scared,” she spat.

He shot her a glare hot enough to correct her mistake of assuming that they were in any way so acquainted that she could forget her place.

“‘Tis nae fear that drives me, lassie, but wisdom. Something ye seem to lack so desperately. Ye want to raise the bairns, but ye’re nothing but a child in a woman’s body.

” He let his eyes roam over her intentionally.

“Ye traveled across the Highlands unattended to me clan and have been alone with me. Do ye nae ken what a man can do?”

He stepped closer till heat painted her cheeks and chest red, and the sight aroused him more than he liked. He itched to rip her dress off her just to see how far that heat painted her skin, but he squeezed his hand into fists instead.

She swallowed thickly, her tongue darting out to wet her sinfully shaped lips, the action innocent but enough to send blood to his cock.

Shite.

Was she truly unaware of her charms to be so unafraid of being alone with a man?

He needed to get her away from him, and quickly, before he made a mistake that would throw the clans into another war. Her soft floral scent wafted up to him, stirring a longing to breathe her in.

Perhaps he had been too long without a woman’s touch. That was the only reasonable explanation for his desire for the slight creature before him.

He stepped away from her and moved to the door, opening it.

“Come with me,” he ordered and stepped out, not waiting to see if she followed.

He heard the soft patter of her feet and her labored breathing as she struggled to keep up with his long strides. He rounded corners sharply, not turning back to her.

Finally, he heard a stubborn stomp of a foot and stopped, turning to her.

She looked frustrated to the point of tears, but her posture was rigid, as if she were ready for a fight.

“Where are we going?” she asked sharply.

He raised an eyebrow at her tone. “The guest chambers ye will stay in until yer faither arrives on the morrow,” he answered tonelessly.

“I…”

“I willnae hear any protest. Ye are the daughter of a laird, and I will treat ye as a guest.”

“Will I be allowed to see the boys, then?”

“Nay,” he answered.

She made a frustrated noise. “Why? I should use me time here to see them.”

“I dinnae think it wise to make the boys get used to yer presence when ye will be returning home,” he argued, stopping in front of one of the doors in the far wing of the castle. “Surely ye’re nae so selfish as to hurt the boys.”

She drew back as if he had slapped her and turned away from him. He felt guilty, seeing the hurt in her eyes, but he pushed away the thought as quickly as it had come.

He called to a maid who had been passing by.

“Ye will help the lady with her needs while she is here,” he ordered. “I expect ye to watch her at all times. She mustnae leave her chambers.”

“Aye, Me Laird.”

“Ye call me a guest, but ye treat me like a prisoner,” Mabel spat when he turned to leave.

He said nothing, but cast one last look at the vexing lass, who was pouting as she looked around the chamber, before stepping out of the room and putting all thoughts of her out of his mind.

The bottle of whiskey called to him more than ever, and now he had a good reason to open it. Perhaps it would be enough to rid his mind of the image of sinfully full lips and forest-green eyes.