Page 12 of Taken by the Highland Villain (Breaking the Highland Rules #2)

“I need all the information ye can find on Nathan Cullen and Valerie Blackwood.” Jude moved to face Craig, noting the somber look on his face.

“Of course, My Laird. Though if ye dinnae mind my askin’, has the lass given ye a reason to distrust her?” Craig furrowed his brow. “I didnae think there was discord between ye.”

“There isnae. But we encountered Nathan in the village yesterday, and I dinnae think it was an accident, even though Valerie tried to convince me it was. There’s somethin’ goin’ on between those two, and I want to ken what sort of trouble we might be in the middle of.”

Jude scowled, remembering the way Nathan had stared at Valerie.

Any further discussion was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Craig smiled and bowed. “If ye’ll excuse me, My Laird. It seems that yer morning meal is here.”

Before Jude could say anything, his second-in-command opened the door and slipped through it, leaving him alone with the person standing on the other side—and not the person he’d expected to be delivering his breakfast tray.

“What the devil—” Jude broke off, staring in mingled bemusement and irritation at the slim form of his new seamstress standing in the doorway.

He’d decided to break his fast in his study for the same reason he’d chosen to have supper in his rooms the night before—in order to have a reprieve from her presence.

The emotions and feelings Valerie Blackwood evoked in him were difficult to tolerate and impossible to dismiss, and he’d spent much of the night brooding on them before retiring to his bed—though it hadn’t helped much.

She made him feel protective as he hadn’t since Kendra’s disappearance. Her jesting remarks about his appearance the day before had prompted him to consider things he’d long considered too trivial to bother with—like keeping his hair and beard neat, and when he’d last bathed.

Having her close brought warmth back to the cold center of his being and thawed emotions he’d thought frozen and dead for seasons. She’d actually amused him with some of her remarks the day before, and earned his respect with her shrewd bargaining skills.

Valerie Blackwood…

She’d been in his castle for only two days, only mended one pair of trews for him, and had already wrought such subtle changes in him that it had made his sleep far more restless than it generally was.

He’d wanted to take some time to think through the encounters and events of yesterday. Instead, the very woman who so troubled his mind was standing in his study doorway, his breakfast tray in her hands as she marched inside.

“What are ye doin’ here, lass?”

Dear Lord, that man, Craig. He knew who it was even before opening the door, I wager. And if he and Moira didnae plan this together, then I’ll eat my boots.

“As I told ye before, my name is Valerie. Feel free to use it instead of callin’ me ‘lass’ all the time. After all, ye didnae seem to have any trouble using it yesterday in the village.”

She set his tray down with a thump, and he realized there were utensils for two, along with food for two.

He also noted that Valerie was wearing a sturdy, utilitarian apron with pockets that bulged with all manner of tools, including objects he had no idea what they might be used for, such as the pouch of charcoal stubs.

He spotted needles, the handles of shears, and what looked like the outline of a bundle of knotted twine.

Jude furrowed his brow. “What’s all that?”

“They are the tools of my trade. I have work to do, and the first thing I need to do is take yer measurements.”

Valerie studied him for a moment, then scowled and stalked past him to the windows. With a jerk, she dragged the right-hand curtain on the farthest window open and tied it off, then repeated the process with the left-hand curtain.

Jude winced as the bright morning sunlight spilled through the windows. “I didnae say ye could do that. This is my study, and I dinnae recall sayin’ ye could just?—”

“Och, hush. Ye dinnae need to act so stern. I need the light to be able to see and take yer measurements properly. Ye wouldnae want me to make a mistake just because I couldnae see clearly.” Valerie turned to face him with a frown.

“Besides, a little more sun wouldnae harm ye. A gloomy home makes a gloomy mind, or so my sister Lily always says.”

“I didnae ask for yer sister’s opinion,” Jude huffed.

However, he made no move to stop her. Instead, he turned his attention to his plate and poured himself a cup of strong tea. He’d rather have whiskey or ale, but he supposed the tea would help clear his head.

“But I suppose ye’ll do as ye like, and as ye feel ye must.”

“When it comes to my work, aye.” Valerie pulled open the second set of curtains, then the third, and secured them. “Now, let me see what I have to work with.”

She turned back to face him, then frowned, before moving closer and staring intently at his face. “Did ye… trim yer beard?”

Jude felt heat rising in his cheeks and was glad it was obscured by his facial hair. “Mayhap I did, mayhap I didnae. It doesnae matter. All that should matter to ye is doin’ yer job. Dinnae forget, Valerie , ye’re here for me to test yer skills, nae for ye to test my limits.”

To his surprise, Valerie countered his embarrassed glower with a raised eyebrow and a teasing, challenging expression. “And what happens if I do test yer limits, My Laird?”

Without thinking, Jude leaned close to her—close enough that their breaths mingled and he could smell the heather-scented soap she’d used to bathe.

His gut clenched, heat pooling low in his groin, and he had to clench his fists tight to prevent an embarrassing reaction. His voice was a low, throaty growl that he scarcely recognized when he responded. “Best ye dinnae find out, lass.”

For a moment, he thought she would press him further, but she seemed to sense his mood. Her emerald-green eyes darkened, filled with heat that mirrored his own.

Without a word, she stepped back and took her seat at the table. “As ye will.”

The two of them ate their morning meal in silence.

Jude found himself watching her, his mind churning with thoughts he dared not voice, to the point where he almost wished she would return to her usual talkative self.

At least, if Valerie had filled the air with her thoughts and contemplations, he would not have been so keenly aware of the inappropriate path his own were taking.

She’s a seamstress, here only to make clothes and mend some of the tapestries and curtains and the like. She’ll be here for a few days, and then she’ll leave—off to her future husband, most likely, or back to her family.

I shouldnae… I cannae get attached to her. I already ken what it’s like to risk carin’ for another. I’ll nae fall into that trap again. Especially nae when I ken she isnae here to stay.

However, reminding himself of his vows and decisions did nothing to stop the way his heart skipped when she finished her meal, rose, and grabbed his hand to drag him away from the table. “Come here.”

Jude stumbled over to where she directed him, too startled at being manhandled to object or resist. “What are ye…?”

“I said I needed to take yer measurements, did I nae?” Valerie looked up at him, her eyes shining with a blend of amusement and exasperation that made heat curl through his gut once again. “I need ye to stand by the windows where the light is the best.”

Jude scowled, but he let her lead him over to a spot in front of the windows.

The warmth and strength of her smaller, callused hand lingered, and he resolutely ignored the sensation as he watched her pull a knotted cord out of her apron, then take the stopper out of an inkpot and set it next to a clean piece of paper, along with a charcoal stub.

“What are ye…?”

“I have to mark yer measurements in some manner.” Valerie grinned at him. “Dinnae fret. It doesnae hurt.”

“I’m nae fretting.” Jude glowered at her.

“Aye, I ken. Now, I need ye to stand up, as tall as ye can. Back straight, shoulders up, knees locked if ye can.”

Jude growled. “Of course I can.”

Valerie scoffed. “Dinnae take it personally. Nae all of my clients could, ye ken.”

Of course.

Jude grimaced. He hadn’t meant to become defensive. She had been so confident of being able to attend to his needs—of course, it was likely she’d served others who were less than completely whole.

He did as she asked, and watched as she stepped on the end of the cord and raised it to his shoulder, before making a mark on it with the ink and a note on a piece of paper she took from his desk.

“Now, hold yer arms straight out from yer sides.”

Jude did as she instructed. He could guess what she was doing, but even so, the feel of her fingers gliding lightly across the back of his wrist, the length of his arm, across his shoulders and his spine, then down the length of his other arm… it made him grit his teeth.

Her every touch made his skin tingle, his blood heating as though she was tracing the lines with soft-glowing coals, rather than her hands.

She stepped away to make more notes and then came back. “Can ye remove yer shirt for me?”

Jude frowned. “What?”

“I need measurements that I cannae get with yer clothin’ on—what did ye think I meant?” She shot him an exasperated look. “If ye’re too shy….”

Jude scoffed and took off his shirt with a few quick movements. “Nothing of the sort.”

He was gratified to see a delicate flush rise to her cheeks as she studied his bare chest.

“Ye have a fair amount of muscle.”

“Did ye think I wouldnae?” It was Jude’s turn to raise an inquisitive eyebrow. Valerie’s flush deepened.

“That’s nae what I meant. There are different techniques I’ll need to use, to ensure that yer clothin’ fits properly nay matter what ye happen to be doin’.” Her cheeks were crimson, but she rallied quickly enough. “Stand still.”

With that, she began measuring around his forearms and biceps, around his chest and waist, and even around his hips, noting down everything with quick, efficient movements.