Page 31 of Hunted By the Cruel Highlander (Lasses of the Highland Hunt #1)

Gabriella and Erica were deciding on the arrangement of heather and wildflowers in clay vessels that would adorn the Great Hall for the wedding ceremony.

The purple blooms were beautiful against the rough stone walls, their sweet fragrance filling the air, but her mind kept wandering to other sensations—the heat of his breath against her neck, the way he’d held himself back even when she could feel how much he wanted her.

“The white roses should go on the high table,” Erica said from across the room, her arms full of cream-colored blooms. “They’ll look lovely against the dark wood, dinnae ye think?”

She could still feel Hector’s hands on her skin. Every time she closed her eyes, she could hear his voice, rough with desire, telling her what it meant to be worshipped.

The memory sent warmth spiraling through her at the most inappropriate moments, leaving her distracted and restless.

Gabriella nodded absently, her fingers trembling slightly as she adjusted a particularly stubborn stem. She could still remember the way he’d—

“Gabriella?” Erica’s voice was closer now, tinged with concern. “Are ye all right, lass? Ye’ve been quiet all mornin’, and ye just put those heather sprigs upside down.”

Gabriella looked down at the arrangement and realized that Erica was right. The delicate purple flowers were indeed pointing toward the table instead of up toward the light. She sighed and began rearranging them, grateful for something concrete to focus on.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “Me mind has been… elsewhere.”

Erica set down her roses and moved to sit beside Gabriella on the wooden bench. Her brown eyes were warm with understanding, and there was no judgment in her expression—only the kind of patience that came from a growing friendship.

“Would ye like to talk about it?” she asked gently. “Sometimes it helps to speak our troubles aloud instead of lettin’ them fester in our minds.”

Gabriella’s hands stilled on the flowers.

Part of her wanted to keep her confusion locked away, to maintain the careful composure she’d built over the years.

But another part, the part that had been growing stronger since she had come to this castle, yearned for the comfort of an honest conversation with someone who cared about her well-being.

“I used to be terrified of what a weddin’ entailed,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Of what came after the vows were spoken.”

Erica’s expression grew serious, and she reached out to cover Gabriella’s hand with her own. “Why?”

The understanding in her voice made tears prick the corners of Gabriella’s eyes. She’d told Erica the basic facts of her kidnapping—how she’d been meant to be sold as a bed slave before Hector had rescued her—but she’d never spoken about the deeper fears that experience had carved into her soul.

“Because of what happened to me when I was taken,” Gabriella whispered.

“Nay one made me do anythin’, but the thought of a man ownin’ me for his pleasure did somethin’ to me.

Ever since then, the thought of… of being approached that way, of havin’ nay choice in what happens to me body…

it made me feel sick with terror. I couldnae imagine ever desirin’ a man’s touch, ever trustin’ someone enough to be that vulnerable. ”

She took a shaky breath, surprised by how much lighter she felt just speaking the words aloud. “But it’s been different with Hector. He’s changed everythin’ I thought I kenned about desire, about trust. From the very beginning, he’s given me a choice. He’s never taken what I wasnae ready to give.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she remembered their first encounter and how he’d made her feel safe even when she’d been at her most vulnerable.

“I trust him completely,” she continued, her voice growing stronger. “More than I’ve ever trusted anyone. And I find meself… wantin’ things I never thought I could want.”

The admission hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. Gabriella felt heat creep up her neck as she remembered exactly how much she’d wanted Hector’s touch, how her body had responded to his caresses with an eagerness that had shocked her.

Erica squeezed her hand encouragingly, and the lack of shock or judgment in her expression gave Gabriella the courage to continue.

“But there’s somethin’ holdin’ me back,” she mumbled. “Somethin’ that makes me hesitate even when every part of me being wants to surrender to what he’s offerin’.”

“What is it, lass?” Erica asked softly. “What’s keepin’ ye from takin’ that step?”

Gabriella’s fingers twisted in her skirt as she struggled to put her fears into words.

“Hector told me about his previous betrothal. About Caitlyn.” The name felt strange on her tongue, foreign and bitter. “I cannae stop wonderin’ if he compares me to her. If, when he touches me, he’s thinkin’ about the woman he was supposed to marry before fate intervened.”

The thought had been plaguing her since the night at the tavern, eating away at the confidence Hector had helped her build.

Every time she remembered the reverent way he’d touched her, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered that perhaps he was simply making the best of an unfortunate situation—that any woman would do, and she just happened to be available.

To her surprise, Erica snorted—a sound so undignified and dismissive that Gabriella’s head snapped up in shock.

“Caitlyn Grant?” Erica said, her voice dripping with disdain. “Oh, Gabriella. If that’s what’s been troublin’ ye, then ye can put yer mind at ease right now.”

“What do ye mean?”

Erica’s lip curled, and there was a spark of something almost like anger in her eyes.

“Caitlyn was a vain, shallow creature who cared more about the cut of her gowns than the well-bein’ of the people she would have been responsible for as the lady of this castle.

Hector never liked her—nae really. He was honor-bound to go through with the betrothal because our clan needed the alliance with the MacDonalds, but I could see the resignation in his eyes every time her name was mentioned. ”

Gabriella felt her heart skip a beat. “Are ye certain?”

“Aye, I’m certain,” Erica said firmly. “When Caitlyn broke off the engagement to marry another laird, Hector was relieved. Oh, he was angry about the insult to our clan’s honor, but I think it was the best thing that could have happened to him.”

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“I’ve kenned Hector since we were children, Gabriella.

I’ve seen him with women who caught his eye, and I’ve seen him fulfill his duties as Laird even when it cost him personally.

But I’ve never—nae once—seen him look at anyone the way he looks at ye. ”

“How does he look at me?” Gabriella asked, hardly daring to breathe.

“Like ye hung the moon and stars,” Erica said with a soft smile. “Like ye’re somethin’ precious he’s afraid to break. Like ye’re the answer to questions he didnae even ken he was askin’.”

The words sent warmth through Gabriella’s chest, washing away the doubt and insecurity. She could picture the expression Erica was describing—she’d seen glimpses of it in Hector’s eyes during their most intimate moments, had felt the weight of his attention like a physical caress.

“There’s nay comparison between ye and Caitlyn Grant,” Erica continued. “None whatsoever. That woman would have made him miserable, and he kenned it. But ye… ye’ve brought somethin’ back to life inside him that I thought was lost forever.”

Gabriella felt tears of gratitude well up in her eyes. “Thank ye,” she whispered. “I needed to hear that more than I realized.”

“Of course, lass. That’s what friends are for.”

The word ‘friends’ settled warm and comfortable in Gabriella’s chest. When was the last time she’d had a true friend? Someone who cared about her happiness without expecting anything in return?

The realization that she’d found not just safety but genuine companionship in this castle made her throat tight with emotion.

She stood up from the bench, feeling lighter than she had in days. The flowers seemed brighter now, their fragrance sweeter, and the sunlight streaming through the tall windows felt like a blessing rather than just another part of the day.

“I think I’m going to take a walk in the gardens,” she announced, smoothing down her skirts. “Clear me mind and enjoy this beautiful weather before the ceremony tomorrow.”

The thought of her wedding—which had seemed so daunting just hours ago—now filled her with anticipation rather than dread. Tomorrow, she would stand before Hector’s clan and pledge herself to a man who looked at her like she hung the stars.

The prospect was both thrilling and terrifying in the best possible way.

“Would ye like to join me?” she asked Erica, who was still seated among the flower arrangements. “The roses can wait another hour or two.”

But Erica shook her head quickly, and Gabriella noticed a flush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. “Oh, I… I have a prior engagement, actually. Somethin’ I cannae postpone.”

There was something in Erica’s tone—a breathless quality that hadn’t been there moments ago—that made Gabriella look more closely at her friend.

Erica’s cheeks were indeed flushed, a rosy pink that spoke of excitement rather than exertion. Her eyes held a sparkle that seemed almost secretive, and her fingers drummed nervously against her skirt.

“A prior engagement?” Gabriella asked with a knowing smile. “Anyone I ken?”

The flush deepened, and Erica looked away quickly. “Just… clan business. Nothin’ interestin’.”

But her voice pitched higher at the end, the way it did when she was being deliberately evasive, and Gabriella felt her smile widen. It seemed she wasn’t the only one in the castle dealing with matters of the heart.

“Of course,” she said diplomatically, deciding not to press. “Well, I hope yer… clan business… goes well.”