Page 33 of Saved by the Cruel Highlander (Lairds of the Loch Alliance #1)

Tucked away in the shadowy enclave, the fabric of the curtain enveloping them, Ailith was acutely aware of the man’s proximity. His body was a mere breath away from hers, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him, smell the faint scent of pine and leather that clung to his clothes. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized how compromising their position could be, hidden together in such close quarters.

He was so close now that she could feel his warm breath on her skin, his muscled arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her against his chest.

The air between them was charged with heat that made her heart thump erratically. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest. Every sense was heightened, every sound amplified—their shared breaths, the rustling of the curtain, the sudden loudness of her heartbeat.

Then the intruders entered the room. It was Hamish, his voice low and tinged with impatience. He was not alone. The lass from earlier was with him, her laughter grating on Ailith’s nerves.

Ailith strained to see through the slight gap in the curtains, her eyes catching glimpses of Hamish attempting to loosen the laces of the lass’s bodice. The woman’s voice rose, half-hearted objections falling from her lips, blending with playful swats at his hands.

“Come now, dinnae be a tease,” Hamish persisted.

The lass was not yielding as easily tonight. With a sudden burst of energy, she pushed Hamish away, her voice sharpening. “Nae now, Hamish. Nae now!” Her voice rose with every word.

Hamish’s response was a frustrated grunt as he took her lips in a sloppy kiss, an attempt to coax her back into his arms. The woman broke away from him and darted out of the room. Hamish cursed under his breath and followed in hot pursuit, his footsteps heavy and hurried.

The room fell silent once more, save for the lingering echo of their departure. Ailith and the man remained hidden, their bodies still pressed together. The sudden departure of Hamish and his companion left a vacuum that the earlier tension swiftly reclaimed.

Her heart was still racing, even after they were alone in the room.

Even worse, she could still feel the warmth of the man’s body against hers, so warm that it made her skin tingle.

His lips curled into a playful smile. “Do ye like me company so much that ye wish to stay here hidden with me?” His voice was low, tinged with humor and something darker. Something Ailith couldn’t explain.

Flustered, she quickly stepped out from behind the curtain, putting some space between them. She faced him, finding that infuriating smirk still etched on his mouth.

“Really,” she began, her voice a mix of annoyance and embarrassment. “Yer jest is ill-timed and ill-received. This is hardly the time. Who kens what would happen if Hamish saw us…”

His smile didn’t waver, but his eyes held a glint of genuine interest. “I mean nay harm,” he replied, his tone still light, “but me jest is the least of yer worries.”

Ailith’s eyebrows knitted together. “Yer teasing feels more akin to mockery.”

The man’s smile vanished, and his expression turned into a scowl. “Ye think me like Hamish?” he asked, his voice carrying a sharp edge it hadn’t before.

Ailith met his eyes, trying to decipher the shadows that passed behind them. He didn’t flinch, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his feelings.

“Aye,” she said, jutting her chin. “If ye can so lightly make fun of me at a time like this, are ye truly any better? Ye feel as entitled to play games and hurt feelings.”

He took a step forward, towering over her. “I take great offense to that,” he growled.

The candlelight illuminated the sides of his face, highlighting the angles of his jaw. Ailith took a shallow breath, but not a word came out.

“I dinnae think ye beneath me.”

The man took one more step towards Ailith, and his hand trailed over her scar with a featherlight touch.

“Is it because of this, ye think so?”

The silence that followed was heavy. Ailith felt bolts of lightning go through her and a heat that made her dizzy. She had been countless times the recipient of stares, comments, and unsolicited consolation. Pity. Somehow, this felt different.

Tension lingered between them, and her turmoil took on a new meaning. This man was making her nervous.

He’s bad news.

Ailith took a step back from him. His smile returned as fast as it had vanished. She found her breath again and turned to the left side of the room, before taking another look at him.

The man’s dark eyes followed her as if sworn to observe her.

Ailith had to admit that the man was a treat. The faint candlelight flickered across his muscular build, casting shadows that played along the contours of his arms and chest, visible even beneath his finely tailored jacket.

His hair was dark, almost blending into the shadows that filled the room, but it was his eyes that captured her attention the most—a sharp, intelligent green that seemed to dance as he observed her.

It was at that moment that recognition dawned on her and sent a shiver down her spine. The pieces fell into place. He introduced himself as Hamish’s cousin, and she had heard tales of a laird feared amongst most of the highlanders for killin’ his father.

Hamish had once told her that tale. Ailith recalled he said the laird had eyes like the shade of leaves. She recalled the name Hamish had mentioned now, and her jaw dropped from her shock.

“Ye’re Finlay Douglas,” she said, her voice steady despite the tumult inside her. “Laird McMorran.”

The man’s expression changed subtly, the corner of his lips quirking upward into a smirk. “Aye, that I am. Me reputation always precedes me.”

Ailith felt a mix of wariness and curiosity as she continued, “I’ve heard tales… They say ye’re a cruel man and a rake. If half the rumors are to be believed, ye’re as dangerous as ye are charming.”

His laugh was low, a rich sound that filled the silence. “Rumors have a way of growing in the telling. Aye, ye’ve finally figured it out. I am indeed that same Finlay Douglas.”

She really was in the presence of a feared man. Here was a man cloaked in a shady reputation. Ailith frowned, trying to recall exactly what she’d heard about him.

Her mind was reeling as she tried to reconcile the man before her with the notorious tales that clung to his name. The mocking glint in Finn’s eyes seemed to challenge her, goading her into a confrontation she felt ill-prepared for.

“Ye really are nay better than yer cousin, then, if what is said about ye holds any truth,” she asserted, her voice strong despite her churning stomach.

The reaction from Finn was immediate and intense, a flash of something dark crossing his face before he masked it with cold composure. In a swift movement that caught Ailith completely off guard, he stepped closer, his hand reaching up to grasp her chin firmly. His touch was not painful, but it was commanding, forcing her to meet his eyes directly.

“Ye ken nothing about me,” Finn stated, his voice low and harsh. “Dinnae presume to judge me based on idle gossip and rumors whispered in dark corners. Did I nae say nae to compare me to Hamish?”

Their proximity was alarming, his face inches from hers, his grip insistent. Ailith’s heart pounded in her chest, her breath quickening.

Is it fear I’m feeling?

His eyes bored into hers, dark and intense, searching for something she wasn’t sure she could hide—her rising confusion, her fear, her unexpected attraction.

At that moment, the door to the chamber swung open with a force that startled Ailith. Hamish had stormed back into his chamber, his expression turning from surprise to dark amusement as he took in the scene before him. Finn and Ailith, so close, in such a private and compromising position. Ailith knew what it looked like.

“What have we here?” Hamish’s voice was laden with insinuation, his eyes flicking from Finn’s hand on Ailith’s chin to her flustered expression. “Am I interrupting something… intimate?”

Finn released her abruptly, stepping back as if suddenly aware of how this must look. Ailith, for her part, felt a flush rise in her cheeks, her heart racing for entirely new reasons now. She struggled to find words, to explain, but how could she? She wasn’t even sure that their interaction was completely innocent.

Hamish’s chuckle filled the room, a sound that sent shivers down her spine. The implications of this misunderstanding were dire, for her reputation and her future. For her father, most of all.

Her father, who had arranged all this to restore his image, to again become the respected Laird and not the fool who backed out of a duel.

Her mistake would be the final nail in his reputation’s coffin.

Ailith had been careless. Now, she was at the mercy of Hamish’s reaction and his next move.