Page 13 of A Wife for the Highland Villain (Breaking the Highland Rules #3)

His mouth moved against hers, and she melted into him. Her lips parted and let him in, and his tongue danced with hers in a wave of fiery heat. It was something she was rather familiar with at this point.

Alasdair groaned low, and his hands roamed over her thighs. She felt a shudder run up her spine as his hands slipped even higher. Her skin prickled, and her chest heaved.

He pressed her harder against the wall, and she felt him between her thighs, growing hard as a rock in mere seconds. Her hands settled on his belt, and it clinked as she furiously unbuckled it, desperate to free him.

His hands reached for her chin, and a mild gasp escaped her lips. Her body was growing hotter beneath his touch, and a part of her wondered if he was aware of that effect.

It was almost like he knew exactly what part of her body to touch and how long he had to linger before moving on to somewhere else. It was like he had memorized her. Like he knew where to kiss her.

Wait. He knew exactly where to kiss her and how to do it because he’d done it ten years ago .

The thought cut through the haze, and a whisper, sharp as a blade, rang in her ears. It was her mother’s voice. She could practically hear her last words, as if she were there again, watching and warning.

He left, Lily. Left with nay word and nay reason.

She tilted her hand back while he licked down the column of her neck and his hands slid back up above her waist.

Ye were just a lass. He doesnae deserve to be looked for. He is a grown man who kent what he was doing.

The pain returned, fast and fierce.

Ten years. Ten years without him. Ten years of silence after he had left. Ten years of wounds that no kiss could ever heal.

Her hands stilled on his belt, and she froze, her chest heaving.

“Stop.” The word tore from her lips.

Alasdair drew back, his breathing ragged. His hands dropped from her waist, and his eyes settled on her face.

“What?” His voice was low, almost a growl.

She swallowed hard. “This was a mistake.”

He frowned. “Lily?—”

“Nay.” She pressed her palms against his chest, forcing space between them. Her voice shook, but she steadied it. “This should never have happened. It was wrong. It is wrong.”

“Ye’re me wife.”

“Doesnae change anything.”

Ye left me once. Ye’ll do it again.

He stood there, his jaw tight, his chest heaving. The moonlight accentuated the lines of his face, deep with strain. “Do ye mean that?”

She lifted her chin and forced herself to meet his eyes, though her heart beat like a drum. “I do. Whatever this is, it cannae happen again.”

He stared at her for a long while. His hand lingered in the air between them, as though he might reach for her again. But then he dropped it.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet, strained, as though every word scraped him raw. “As ye wish.”

He bent to fasten his belt, each tug sharp and precise. He did not look at her or try to speak further. He only gave her a brief nod, turned around and walked to the door, and let it slam shut behind him.

The silence that followed rang louder than his voice.

Lily’s body sagged, and she felt her legs grow weak. Without wasting more time, she lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, pressing her palms into her face. Her chest ached, and her lips still tingled with the memory of his kiss.

Nay, this cannae be. Nae again.

She swallowed and tried to think of something else.

Ian.

She thought of how he had convulsed hard and how she had struggled to treat him, helping him cling to life. She shuddered at the thought of what might have happened if she hadn’t been there. What would definitely have happened.

She shivered and felt a cold sweat break across her skin. She thought of the men she had seen in the hall, the way their eyes had filled with relief at her presence. They trusted her. They needed her.

And Dr. Moseley?—

Her jaw clenched, and rage flared hot in her chest.

Bloodletting. That was his cure.

Cutting men open, draining them, leaving them weaker than before. How many had suffered needlessly at his hand? How many might already be dead if she had not come when she did?

Her stomach churned, and her hands curled into fists. She leaned back until her shoulders met the cushions. Her head dropped against them, and she stared up at the ceiling, unblinking.

The air pressed close, almost suffocating. She considered stepping outside, but that would mean having to see him .

No, she couldn’t put herself through that. Not again.

She thought of her mother again, the last words she had spoken. Words that still rang clear.

“Tying yer self-worth to a man is the biggest mistake ye can ever make, sweetie. Ye cannae let that happen. Ever . ”

Her chest tightened.

Was that what had nearly happened? Had she almost given herself to him again, so easily? And for what? A kiss, a few sweet words, the heat of his touch?

She felt the tears pool in her eyes. She hated him for what he did to her. Even worse, she hated herself for letting him back in so easily. She couldn’t believe she had almost let him have his way with her.

Had she truly been that weak, or was he just so irresistible?

“This cannae happen again,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and almost broken. “It willnae.”

Her hand dropped to her lap, and her fingers twisted into her nightshift. She closed her eyes, but sleep did not come. She couldn’t feel anything except the ache in her chest.

Ten Years Ago

The sun had not yet crested the horizon, but the cabin was warm with the muted morning light already.

Lily’s eyes flew open, squinting slightly against the morning light. She was still giddy from the events of last night, and she knew that because her cheeks felt rather warm.

She had gotten married the previous day, and for some reason, it was still immensely hard for her to believe. She feared that if she blinked too hard, everything would disappear.

Her heart swelled at the thought of him, of the words he had whispered after, that he wished their first night together to be on land.

She had held onto that promise. She had dreamt of it. She had dreamt of him .

Her thoughts were still wrapped in those soft daydreams when the door burst open and Valerie appeared in the doorway. Her face was pale, and her eyes were wide with something Lily could not place at first.

“Ye havenae heard?”

Lily blinked, startled by her sister’s sudden intrusion. “Heard what?”

Valerie swallowed hard. “He is gone.”

Lily’s heart stuttered. “Who is gone?”

“Alasdair,” Valerie whispered. “Yer husband. He took one of Faither’s boats and fled in the middle of the night.”

The words struck like iron to her chest. Lily froze, gaping, unable to form a reply. Her whole body went cold for a minute, then the disbelief settled in, and she flung back the blankets.

“Is this another one of yer jests?” she scoffed, stumbling out of bed.

Valerie stepped back outside, and Lily followed, the wind tugging at her loose hair. Her eyes settled on her parents near the railing. Captain Blackwood’s face was like stone, his jaw tight with rage and his fists clenched. Her mother’s expression was softer but no less heavy with disappointment.

“Is it true?” Lily asked, her voice trembling.

Her mother turned at once and walked over to her. “Oh, darling.” She pulled Lily into her arms. “I am so sorry.”

But Lily could still hear her father cursing beneath his breath. “And he took one of me best boats as well, the bastard.”

“Surely someone must have heard him in the night,” Lily said, pulling back from her mother.

Valerie looked away. “I did. I thought he was fixing something on the deck. It never crossed me mind that he was leaving.”

Lily’s chest rose and fell as she tried to breathe through the weight pressing down on her.

“I cannae believe it,” she whispered. “Something must have happened. Perhaps he was sent on an errand.” She turned sharply. “Did he go alone?”

Valerie shook her head. “Finn went with him.”

“Well, there ye have it.” Lily’s voice grew brighter with desperate hope. “Those two are inseparable. He will return.”

It was then that Megan emerged from the cabin, her face pale and her eyes lowered.

Valerie frowned at her. “What are ye doing?”

“I searched his room,” Megan said quietly. “I found only this.”

She held out an envelope. Lily took it with trembling fingers and tore it open. Then, she pulled out the slip of paper within and scanned it.

Ye must forgive me.

A.

Her eyes burned as her fingers curled into the edges of the note. The world tilted beneath her, but Valerie caught her arm before she fell.

“He is gone,” Lily whispered, almost in disbelief. As if she had to say it to herself over and over again before the truth sank in. “He is gone.”

Present Day

The knocking stirred her awake, and her eyes opened to the quiet of her chamber, the moonlight casting a soft glow on the floor.

The door creaked open, and Daisy stepped in. She paused, then dipped her head. “Is there anything ye need, me Lady? Shall I draw ye another bath or fetch food from the kitchens?”

Lily let out a small laugh. “Nay, I am fine. Ye may go and rest. Ye have worked enough today.”

The maid hesitated. “But?—”

“Nay,” Lily said gently. “It has been a long day. Ye deserve yer sleep.”

Daisy’s lips curled into a smile, and she glanced at the window. “What did I tell ye, me Lady? The rain didnae fall, after all.”

Lily followed her gaze. The sky outside was clear, the stars sharp against the darkness of night. She nodded faintly. “Indeed, it didnae.”

Daisy bobbed her head once more and left.

The chamber fell quiet again. Lily sank back against the pillows, her thoughts restless. The memory of Alasdair’s lips on hers rose like a tide. So did her anger.

Anger at him for leaving her without a word.

Anger at herself for allowing him to touch her, to stir feelings she had long since vowed to bury.

No, that could never happen again. And she would make sure of it.