Page 17 of Claimed by the Ruthless Highlander (Taming the Highland Devils #2)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

" W e've had word of sheep thieves near the border," one of the elder councilmen said, his grizzled hands folded before him. "We should send men soon. The folk grumble already."

Caiden sat at the head of the long oaken table, the flicker of torchlight casting shadows across the council chamber walls. They leaned forward, their eyes fixed on him, awaiting his word. Though his ears caught their voices, his mind drifted elsewhere. Maisie.

Caiden nodded, though his thoughts slid back to the memory of Maisie's green eyes.

"Send twenty men to patrol the lands near the burn," he said, his voice steady though his chest ached with distraction. "Make it known we keep land guarded well."

Another man spoke, his tone sharper. "The fishin' boats are in need of repair as well."

"Aye, we'll send for trees to be harvested for lumber," Caiden replied. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to force his thoughts back to the matters at hand.

Maisie's laugh, her stubborn defiance, even the way she refused to meet his eyes haunted him like a ghost. He cursed himself for letting her shadow every decision he made.

"The men grow restless," a younger warrior said, leaning forward. "They whisper of yer mind being elsewhere, laird."

Caiden's eyes narrowed, his voice low as a growl. "I'll answer any man bold enough to question my loyalty to this clan. Tell them their laird keeps his mind sharp, aye, sharper than any blade they hold." His words struck like steel, yet inside he knew it was not true.

The chamber fell silent, broken only by the crackle of the fire. Caiden clenched his fists against the table, feeling the pull of something he did not want to name. Maisie was no longer simply a burden or a hostage in his hall. She had become a distraction he could neither master nor cast aside.

He rose abruptly, the scrape of the chair loud in the hush. "The matter's decided. Patrols will ride at dawn, and wood will be harvested for the boats. See it done."

The men nodded, some exchanging uncertain glances, but none dared speak further. Caiden's jaw was set, his stride hard, yet his thoughts were tangled in chains as he left the chamber.

Maisie had stolen his focus, stolen the order of his mind, and he could no longer deny it. Anger flared within him, not at her, but at himself for being so undone. She was meant to be his captive, yet she had become the one who held him bound.

Caiden walked along the castle grounds to clear his mind.

It led him into the stables. To his surprise, his gaze landed on Maisie, her hair loose about her shoulders as she brushed the glossy flank of a chestnut mare.

She looked entirely at ease, as though the horse belonged to her, as though this castle were not his but hers.

Heat surged through him, sharp and unwelcome, and his voice came out harder than he intended.

"Ye think to steal a beast and ride yerself free?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer.

Maisie froze, the brush stilling in her hand before she turned, her expression flashing with fire. "If I meant to flee, do ye think I'd be lingerin' here with a brush in me hand?" she retorted.

Caiden's jaw tightened, but the steel in her tone unsettled him more than her words. "Aye, lass, ye've the clever tongue for it. Ye'd dress it in excuses and call it truth."

Her eyes burned as she squared her shoulders. "I came to the stables for naught but peace. I miss me own horse, and the quiet here eases the ache. Is it so great a crime to seek solace?"

His breath caught, though he masked it with a scowl. "Peace is a poor mask when the heart seeks escape," he shot back, though already doubt gnawed at him.

Maisie set down the brush, her chin lifting in defiance. "Ye ken naught of me heart, Laird McGibb. Ye see only what suits yer anger."

He stepped forward, the tension sparking like flint in the narrow space between them. "And what is it ye'd have me see, lass? That ye're naught but an innocent wanderer in me hall?"

She stepped forward in anger. Her lips parted as if to answer, but her foot slipped on the loose straw scattered across the floor.

With a sharp gasp, she swayed, the world tilting as her hand missed the stall door.

Caiden caught her before she fell, his arms closing firmly around her waist, the warmth of her body searing through the leather of his jerkin.

Maisie's breath rushed against his throat, her eyes wide as she clutched at him. For a moment neither spoke, the silence trembling with unspoken words. Caiden's gaze dropped to her mouth, desire warring with fury, longing pulling him dangerously close.

The world narrowed to the heat between them, to the single breath that separated restraint from surrender.

His hand lingered against her back, holding her too close, too long.

He bent nearer, his lips a whisper from hers, the temptation fierce and wild as fire.

Then with a ragged breath he tore himself back, his jaw locking hard as steel.

"Ye drive me to madness, lass," he muttered, his voice rough. "One day I'll claim yer truth… or I'll let ye go, for both our sakes."

Maisie's eyes glistened with something unreadable, but she said nothing as he released her, stepping back into the shadowed quiet of the stable. His hands still burned from where he had held her, and his heart thundered with the knowledge that he had been a breath away from a mistake.

He turned away from her. "Get back inside the castle or I shall carry ye inside," he said.

He listened as she stomped out of the stable. Only when she left his sight did he walk to the doorway to watch her enter the courtyard.

The rest of the day he avoided her—he had to—but he had Eric keep watch on her from afar so that he could know her whereabouts without being near her. He did not trust himself not to kiss her again.

The next day, the wind howled along the cliffs, whipping the rain onto the castle walls. Caiden sat in his study, the fire flickering weakly as rain lashed the windows. He was reviewing the castle accounts when the door burst open, and Eric stumbled in, soaked through to the bone.

"The boats, Laird," Eric panted, dripping water onto the floor. "They've all been brought up on shore. The storm looks something fierce the likes of which we've nae seen in moons."

Caiden nodded sharply, his stern expression softening for a moment. "Aye, ye did well, lad. Ye've kept the clan's fishin' vessels safe, as I asked," he said, pride threading his voice.

But Eric lingered, shaking his head, water running down his face. "There's somethin' else, Laird… I lost sight of the lass. Last I saw her, she was on the beach. I daenae ken if she's returned."

Caiden's chest tightened, his heart dropping hard to his stomach. The firelight blurred in his vision as he imagined her struggling against the wind and the waves.

"Damnation," he muttered, clenching his fists. The storm outside felt suddenly more vicious, more dangerous, and he knew he could not let her be caught in it.

Without a second thought, he abandoned the study, his boots splashing through the wet stones of the courtyard.

"Check the eastern shore. I'll check the west!" he shouted.

"Aye," Eric said.

Caiden burst out onto the castle grounds and down to the beach.

The wind tore at his tunic and hair as he ran, the castle walls looming behind him like stone sentinels.

Every step pounded in his chest, the thought of losing her driving him faster.

He reminded himself with a grim clarity, this storm would not claim her if he could help it, and he would reach her before it did.

Waves battered the rocks, froth spitting high as he saw Maisie, soaked through, gripping the net alongside Aimen.

Her skirts clung to her legs, and the storm tossed her hair like a dark banner in the wind. Fury flared in him, sharp and dangerous, and yet beneath it ran a bitter thread of fear for her safety.

"Maisie!" he roared, his voice nearly lost in the gale.

She turned, water dripping from her hair and eyelashes, her face bright with stubborn defiance.

"I'm helpin'! Aimen needs me! Ye dinnae ken what it's like to-"

"Daenae speak!" Caiden cut her off, his hand latching onto her arm with iron grip. Without waiting for protest, he hoisted her into his arms, ignoring the squirm of her body as she gasped.

"I can walk, ye brute! Put me down this instant!" she sputtered, her cheeks flushed with cold and indignation.

"I'm nae lettin' ye drown like a fool," he growled, the wind tugging at his coat as he turned toward the castle. "Ye have nay business here in this storm. Yer safety is me concern whether ye like it or nae. Aimen, damn the nets and get yerself inside."

Aimen nodded and ran toward his own fishing hut.

Maisie kicked lightly, trying to wriggle free, but he only tightened his hold. "Ye have nay right to keep me like this! I'm nae yer prisoner when I'm helpin'!"

Caiden's jaw clenched, and for a moment he considered letting her protest, but the lightning that struck nearby, casting silver across the waves, reminded him of the danger.

"Ye are mine to protect while ye're here," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I daenae care if ye think me a brute, Maisie. Ye willnae get caught in the storm's teeth and perish."

She pressed her face into his chest, shivering, and muttered, "I daenae need yer protection. I can fend for myself."

His fingers flexed against her arm, steadying her as the rain soaked them both. "Aye, ye can fend for yerself in calm weather. Nae in a gale like this. I will nae let ye risk yer life like some reckless lass."

Her voice twitched in a mix of anger and helplessness, and he caught the glint of fear hiding beneath her pride. "Ye daenae understand, do ye?" she said, voice muffled. "I am nae scared."

"Enough talk," he said, his tone sharp as thunder. "I'm carryin' ye to the castle, and ye will stay inside where it's safe."

Lightning lit the sky again, and the roar of the waves underscored every step as Caiden trudged through the mud, holding her close.

She was damp, trembling, and defiant, and yet in that closeness, he felt the dangerous pull of desire tighten like a cord around his chest. He ignored it, though barely, his mind focusing on getting her to shelter before the storm could take another life.

By the time they reached the castle walls, Maisie's protests had quieted into mutters, and Caiden's grip never wavered.

"Go to the eastern shore and find Eric. Tell him the lass has been found," he shouted to a gate guard.

The guard nodded and ran in the direction to find Eric. Caiden carried Maisie inside the castle walls and as he did so could feel her body shiver. And instant fear came over him that she would become ill.

He crossed the hall with swift determination, the storm's roar fading behind the thick stone walls.

Once inside her bedchamber, he gently lowered her to the floor, taking in her shivering form.

His eyes immediately moved to the fireplace, and he lit it, the flames casting warm light across the room.

"Maisie, take off these wet clothes at once, or ye'll catch yer death of cold," he commanded, his voice sharp with worry.

"I… I can manage it meself," Maisie replied, trying to keep her pride steady as her wet hair stuck to her cheeks.

"Ye can manage? Ye'll nae last the night with those clothes clingin' to ye like that. Out with them, lass, I command ye," Caiden barked, stepping closer.

With a huff, Maisie reluctantly peeled off her sodden dress, leaving only the wet chemise clinging to her.

He saw her cheeks flush at the chill, but she met his eyes with stubborn defiance.

"I am nae helpless, Laird. Ye neednae fuss over me like I'm some wee bairn!" she shot back, crossing her arms.

Caiden's eyes darkened, the heat of frustration battling with desire. He could not tear his gaze from the wet fabric clinging to her body, outlining curves he had tried to ignore. Her rosy nipples protruding through the fabric.

"By the gods, Maisie, ye'll drive me mad… with that pride of yers," he muttered, his tone rough but tinged with longing. Knowing it was her body that was driving him mad.

"I am nae here to amuse ye, Laird! I am just tryin' to keep warm," Maisie spat, though her voice wavered with the same dangerous mix of fear and attraction he felt.

Caiden closed the distance between them, his breath hot against her ear.

"Ye think yer stubborn words will sway me? Ye'll nae endanger yerself without consequences, lass," he growled.

Caiden's jaw tightened as he fought the desire that surged through him. At last, he stepped back, forcing himself to regain control, his breaths ragged.

Caiden moved toward the door, his steps heavy with restrained agitation.

"A hot bath'll be brought up immediately, and tea with it," he barked over his shoulder, his voice rough yet carrying an unspoken urgency.

He paused for a moment, glancing back at Maisie, his eyes dark with desire and frustration. "Once I close this door, ye'll take off that wet chemise and wrap yerself in a blanket," he added, his tone sharp but tinged with something more.

Maisie nodded, cheeks flushed, as she watched him leave the room. The click of the door closing behind him.

Caiden lingered outside the door for a moment longer than necessary, his hand hovering over the handle.

A part of him wanted nothing more than to turn back and close the distance between them, to press his lips to hers and feel the heat of her body against his.

But the cruel edge of his own nature held him back, reminding him of the dangers she would face if he gave in.

With a heavy breath, he finally turned away, forcing himself to leave the room, even as his mind burned with the memory of her form beneath the wet chemise.