Page 27 of Taken By the Highland Villain

“My Laird?” Craig had clambered to his feet and retrieved his sword, a question in his eyes.

Jude shook his head and dropped his blade. “That’s enough for today. I’m going to take a bath and see what work I can get done.”

Anything I can do to avoid thinkin’ of Valerie Blackwood.

He stalked to the door of his chambers, intent on gathering a fresh change of clothes before making his way down to the common bathing chamber—he generally used it to avoid making Moira haul buckets of heated water to his chambers, and to spare her from injury—but then stopped, blinking at the sight in front of him.

His chambers were not empty as he’d expected them to be. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, then slowly opened them again, half-hoping he’d imagined the scene before him.

He hadn’t. There, in his bedroom, was Valerie, standing on a short ladder with Moira beside her. Valerie was holding a long piece of fabric to the upper edge of his window, and the two of them had clearly been discussing its placement when he walked in.

Curtains. He’d specifically told her to leave the curtains alone, and he certainly hadn’t allowed her into his bedroom. And yet here she was, intruding on his private quarters as if she had a right to be there.

Jude stepped forward, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “Oversteppin’ again, lass? I warned ye already that it’s nae wise to test me.”

Valerie blinked down at him. “It is only curtains.”

“Aye. Which I said I didnae want. And in my bedchamber too, where I didnae give ye leave to come.”

Though I would, willingly, and for more and better reasons than fussin’ over curtains, if I thought ye’d accept the offer.

The thought took him off guard and sent blood rushing painfully to his groin, stiffening his manhood until he was almost glad for the injury to his knee that made his limp less noticeable than it otherwise might have been.

He shook the thought away and stalked forward, intent on setting some boundaries. Moira stepped back as he approached, and he gave her a sideways glance.

“Leave us.”

“My Laird?” She blinked, looking between him and Valerie with concern. “Are ye…”

“Leave.” His voice dropped to a low rumble.

Moira exchanged a quick glance with Valerie, then dropped her head in a nod, took the fabric, and hurried away.

“Get down from there.” Jude gestured for Valerie to step off the ladder. “Stubborn lass, I told ye I didnae want ye changin’ the curtains, in here or in my study.”

He saw Valerie’s foot awkwardly hit the second-to-last step of the ladder and then slip. She toppled backward with a yelp. Jude pushed himself forward, half-staggered around the bed, and just managed to catch her before she hit the floor.

He scowled. “Nae only are ye trespassin’ where ye shouldnae be, but this is the third time in two days I’ve needed to rescue ye.”

“I ken. Thank ye.” Valerie flushed a warm pink, her expression as full of chagrin as it had been full of playful rebelliousness moments ago.

Jude sighed, his irritation draining out of him, only to be replaced by frustration—and a reluctant desire to see her defiance return. It suited her far better than a ducked head and muttered words of appreciation or apology.

“Och, dinnae thank me.” He set her on her feet with a grunt. “For the life of me, I dinnae understand why ye had to turn up in my castle, or my life, nor why ye’re so insistent on stayin’.”

Valerie smiled, but it wasn’t the easy, warm smile he’d seen before. This was a soft, bitter smile, tinged with regret and loneliness and unhappiness so deep it almost took his breath away. “I came because I was certain I could help ye. And I hoped… I believed ye could help me, even if only by giving me some time and peace to think.”

“Because of MacOlley.” Jude scowled. “I heard from Craig that he’s been makin’ a nuisance of himself. But why nae simply refuse him? Tell him ye’re a widow—most lairds without heirs wouldnae want to wed a widow.”

“My bein’ a widow wouldnae matter that much to him. He doesnae want me as a wife, but as a possession. A piece of ‘art’ for his collection.”

Jude scowled at the words.

Nay one, man or woman, is a possession, much less a woman with Valerie’s spirit.

He was tempted to say the words, but he thought perhaps it might be better to approach the matter from a different angle.

“Even so, couldnae yer family or yer former husband’s family help ye send him packing?”