Page 18 of Claimed by the Ruthless Highlander (Taming the Highland Devils #2)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

M aisie wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders, shivering despite the fire's warmth.

She watched the flickering flames, the heat slowly seeping into her chilled limbs, yet her thoughts kept wandering to Caiden.

The memory of his strong arms pulling her from the storm made her cheeks warm, though she berated herself for feeling anything but anger toward him.

She told herself it was all practicality on his part, that he cared only for her as a key to the stolen painting.

The servants moved efficiently, setting the tub and carrying in buckets of steaming water. Maisie stepped aside, keeping her distance as they poured the water into the tub, steam rising in curling tendrils into the cold air of the room.

"Thank ye," she murmured, her voice soft, almost lost beneath the roar of the fire and the splashing of water.

Once the bath was filled, the servants departed, leaving her alone, the room heavy with the scent of herbs and waxed wood.

Taking a deep breath, Maisie lowered herself into the hot water, feeling the tension in her muscles begin to ease.

Her skin tingled as the warmth enveloped her, and she closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the comforting sensation.

Thoughts of Caiden intruded, as always, his harsh words, his stormy eyes, the dangerous way he seemed to look at her in her wet chemise, and she scolded herself for the fluttering in her chest. Yet even as she admonished herself, a tiny spark of gratitude lingered for the man who had risked himself to save her from the storm.

The contradiction of his nature, the cruelty he displayed one moment and the tenderness the next, left her unsettled.

She shook her head and tried to focus on the bath, on the heat seeping into her bones, telling herself that she must not let her thoughts betray her.

Still, the echo of his presence in the room haunted her, even in the quiet solitude of the fire-lit chamber.

The following morning, Maisie watched the sun climb higher in the sky, but there was no sign of Caiden anywhere about the castle.

She pressed her face to the window, spotting Norah and Isabelle laughing as they chased Arran and Hugh across the garden.

Their small voices carried on the breeze, and Maisie felt a longing to be part of that carefree joy.

With a shrug, she decided to join them, stepping out into the garden and letting the children run to her with shouts of delight.

"Maisie! Look at Hugh, he found a ladybird!" Norah exclaimed, sweeping the youngest boy into her arms as he squealed.

Maisie laughed, stooping to examine the tiny insect on his finger. "Aye, and Arran's hidin' behind ye like a wee spy," she said, reaching for the older boy and spinning him about.

The children shrieked with laughter, and for a moment, Maisie forgot the weight of the castle walls around her as her prison.

Isabelle caught her hand as she straightened, her smile mischievous. "Maisie, ye will greatly enjoy the full moon feast this eve," she said, eyes twinkling.

Maisie paused, startled. "A feast? Is it a festival?" she asked, curiosity tinged with anxiety.

Isabelle tilted her head, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "It's nae grand, mind ye. Just supper in the great hall, with decoration and dancin'. And every lady wears flowers in her hair, it's tradition."

Maisie frowned, trying to imagine herself among a crowd of petite women, all adorned with blooms, and herself rising high above them like a stone tower.

"Flowers? Why must we wear flowers in our hair?" she asked, feeling a blush creep up her neck.

Isabelle laughed, the sound bright and musical. "'Tis an old custom, Maisie. It shows that the bounty of the tides is in the hearts of fair maidens as well as in the sea. A wee way to honor the fish moon and bring joy to the clan."

Maisie giggled, shaking her head in amusement. "Ye mean to say we must parade about with flowers like some kind of courtly ladies?" she teased, adjusting her shawl as the children ran past her once more.

Isabelle caught her elbow and squeezed it playfully. "Aye, but it's all in fun. Besides, it's rare ye get to wear flowers in yer hair without a care in the world."

She thought of the dance awaiting her that night and felt a twinge of embarrassment; her height had always made her self-conscious, and she disliked towering over the men as they shuffled about the floor.

After playing in the sun, she returned to her room, her mind still fretting over the evening's dance, and froze when she saw the small bouquet of yellow flowers resting atop her bed.

Beside them lay a green gown of the most elaborate design she had ever seen, and a folded note that read, "Wear these in yer hair this evenin', that's an order – Caiden."

Her heart skipped a beat at the boldness of the command, and for a moment she stood frozen, cradling the flowers in her hands. The audacity of him made her pulse race, and a flush of both anger and delight spread across her cheeks.

She sank onto the edge of her bed, holding the delicate bouquet close, and tried to imagine herself wearing the flowers in her hair. The green gown shimmered like sunlight on the sea, with embroidery along the bodice and delicate lace tracing the sleeves.

She hugged the dress to her chest, feeling a rare surge of joy and warmth, as though the act of receiving it had momentarily lifted the weight of her captivity. For the first time in weeks, she felt not like a prisoner, but like a lady.

Her mind wandered as she touched the petals, considering how a man had never given her flowers or a gown before, and the sweetness of the gesture made her heart ache with a strange longing.

For a fleeting instant, she forgot the castle walls and Caiden's watchful presence, imagining instead the music and joy of the evening.

She shook her head at her own foolishness but couldn't deny the thrill that ran through her at the thought of obeying his order.

Maisie carefully placed the gown upon a chair, taking one last look at the yellow blooms, imagining how they would catch the light woven into her hair.

The green of the dress would complement her eyes, and the yellow flowers would brighten her face as she danced.

A blush rose to her cheeks at the thought, despite her discomfort with her height, and she whispered softly to herself, "Perhaps this night willnae be so dreadful after all."

The combination of fear, excitement, and curiosity left her trembling slightly as she prepared for the evening to come.

Maisie stepped into the great hall, her breath catching as she took in the scene. The hall was awash with flickering candlelight, and garlands of yellow and white flowers hung from the beams, interspersed with ribbons that swayed in the gentle draft.

Musicians played fiddles and a lute, the lilting melody weaving around the chatter and laughter of the clansmen gathered for the full moon feast. The tables were laden with roasted fish, fresh bread, cheeses, and sweet cakes, the aroma mingling with the salt air drifting through the open windows.

As she crossed the threshold, conversation faltered and all eyes turned toward her.

Her cheeks burned crimson, and her hands fidgeted with the folds of her gown, the green silk shimmering under the candlelight.

The hall felt suddenly immense and intimidating, every pair of eyes weighing her as if she were the centerpiece of some great display.

Then, Caiden appeared at her side, his presence commanding yet familiar, and he offered his arm.

"Ye look like a vision, Maisie," he murmured, guiding her gently to the dais and seating her beside him.

She swallowed, her voice small and hesitant. "I…thank ye, Laird. I dinnae ken the hall would be… so… bright."

"Aye, bright enough to match the glow in yer cheeks," Caiden teased, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Sit close, lass, else I might take it upon meself to rescue ye from yon gawkin' eyes."

Maisie's lips curved in a reluctant smile. "And would ye now? Or are ye afeared ye might get caught looking at me too long?"

He leaned closer, lowering his voice just above a whisper. "I daenae fear being caught, Maisie. The only thing I fear is if ye'll start mindin' me too much and I cannae look away."

Maisie tried to hide her fluttering heartbeat, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Ye speak as if I'm some wee bird trapped in the hall, Laird. I can fend for meself."

"Ah, but even the bravest bird likes a warm hand nearby, does it nae?" Caiden countered, his tone playful yet edged with something deeper. "And I ken ye've a way of makin' even a laird forget his senses."

Maisie laughed softly, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "Perhaps… but do nae think I'll make it easy for ye, Caiden. I've a stubborn streak ye cannae tame so quickly."

He smirked, raising a goblet to his lips. "We shall see, Maisie, we shall see. Tonight is for the moon's feast, aye, but it might also be for a bit of mischief… perhaps even from me."

The warmth of the hall, the festive music, and the playful banter left Maisie feeling both nervous and exhilarated, caught between fear, admiration, and a spark of something new… joy.

Maisie froze as Caiden stood up and his hand closed around hers, firm and commanding.

"Ye will dance with me, Maisie. That's an order," he said.

She opened her mouth to refuse, but the glint in his eyes made her heart stutter. Reluctantly, she allowed him to lead her onto the floor, her hands trembling as she felt the solid warmth of his body near hers.

As they stood before each other, she exhaled as she saw that he indeed towered over her as he always had. She suddenly did not feel shame about her height.

The music began, a lively reel that seemed to pull at her very soul. Caiden guided her gracefully, his hand settling on her waist in a way that made her breath hitch. Every step, every turn, was a thrill, her body responding to his movements as though it had known them all along.

Maisie's eyes flicked to his face, and she saw amusement there, mingled with something darker, something that made her cheeks burn.

She felt her desire flourish with each brush of his hand, the closeness making her acutely aware of the heat between them.

"Ye move well for a stubborn lass," he murmured near her ear, and the rasp of his voice sent shivers down her spine.

Maisie bit her lip, trying to focus on the dance, but the feel of his hand on her back and the press of his chest against her own left her dizzy. She could sense the attention of the clan around them, yet it faded into nothing, leaving only Caiden and the fire he ignited in her.

As the dance continued, he twirled her under his arm, their eyes locking in fleeting glances that were both daring and intimate.

"Ye think to hide yer blushes, do ye?" he said, his thumb brushing lightly across her cheek.

She flushed deeper, pretending to adjust her skirt, but inwardly she thrilled at the contact, at the closeness she had resisted for so long. The music swelled, and with each beat, Maisie felt herself falling into the rhythm of his command, willingly captivated by his presence.

He leaned closer during a turn, his lips almost brushing her temple, and Maisie's heart pounded in her chest. She had never imagined a dance could be so intoxicating, so full of tension and longing.

"I daenae ken how to make ye speak, Maisie," he murmured, his gaze intense, "but I'll find a way yet…or perhaps make ye moan."

She swallowed hard, the words stirring a fire in her, her body responding despite the turmoil in her mind.

The dance ended with a flourish, and he held her in place just long enough for the world to blur around them. The hall erupted in applause, but Maisie hardly noticed, too caught in the spell of his nearness, the scent of him, and the way his hand lingered at her back.

She pulled away slightly, guilt and desire warring within her, but he didn't release her, merely letting her breathe while keeping her in his orbit. The fire light glimmered across his strong features, and she realized she was caught, both prisoner and willing captive of his charm.

"Ye did well, Maisie," he said, finally letting her step back, though his hand lingered an instant longer. "Aye, well enough that I might need another dance before the night is through."

"I… I am nae…" She tried to protest, her voice trembling with both irritation and longing, but the flush of excitement on her cheeks betrayed her.

As the evening carried on, Caiden remained near, guiding her subtly toward games, laughter, and conversation with the other clanspeople. Each time he touched her hand or brushed against her sleeve, her pulse leapt, a mixture of fear, fascination, and undeniable desire.

She felt herself drawn to him, her mind betraying her with thoughts she could barely acknowledge.

By the time the feast wound down, Maisie knew one thing for certain.

I will never view this man the same way.

The music softened, and Caiden finally took her arm, leading her outside onto the balcony overlooking the moonlit beach. The sea sparkled under the full moon, and the sound of waves crashing against the rocks filled the space between them.

He stopped, holding her close, and for a moment the world narrowed to just the two of them. Maisie's breath caught, her desire mingling with fear, anticipation, and a thrilling sense of surrender she could not deny.

"The festival is nae complete without one more thing," he said.

"And what is that?" she asked.

"A dip in the sea, as naked as the day we are born," he said.

She gasped. "Shockin'. That is nae acceptable."

"'Tis, and it is a necessity. At midnight, the clansmen will go out onto these shores and into the water," he said.

She laughed. "The men only?"

"Aye. We would never make a lass do it…"

He lowered his lips near her ear, his voice a husky whisper. "Unless she wanted to. Do ye?"

"Nay, I daenae wish to do such a thing."

Her pulse raced, her body tense with longing and the knowledge that whatever game he played, it was one she no longer wished to resist.

And that is very, very wrong. Fight it, Maisie.