Page 27 of Tempted by a Highland Beast (Tales of Love and Lust in the Murray Castle #9)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

C onstantine had been tracking the missing guard for the better part of an hour when he crested the rise above the loch.

The lad had failed to report for his evening watch, and while he was known for occasional lapses in judgment, disappearing entirely wasn’t like him. Not with the castle full of sick villagers and tensions running high.

What Constantine hadn’t expected to find was Rowena’s horse grazing peacefully by the water’s edge, her clothes folded neatly on the bank, and the woman herself floating in the dark water like some ancient water spirit.

He should have turned away immediately. Should have retreated to give her privacy and returned later to continue his search for his guard.

Instead, he found himself dismounting, his eyes drawn to the pale curve of her shoulders above the water, the way her red hair spread around her like liquid copper.

Constantine told himself he was staying to ensure her safety—a woman alone and vulnerable was an easy target. But even as he formed the rational justification, he knew it was only part of the truth.

The larger truth was that he couldn’t make himself leave.

Movement in the water caught his attention as she turned toward shore, he saw the exact moment she spotted him. Her body went rigid, her eyes widening with shock and something that might have been fear.

“Oh God! ‘Tis ye!” She yelled, and as if it suddenly dawned on her that her body was exposed, she gasped and sank deeper into the water.

“Turn around,” she commanded, her voice carrying across the water with sharp authority despite her obvious vulnerability. “Turn around right now, Constantine MacLean.”

Constantine found Rowena’s command mildly amusing. And perhaps a swim in the loch was exactly what he needed as well.

Instead of obeying, Constantine began unfastening his sword belt with deliberate calm. “There’s nay shame in seeking the loch’s peace,” he said, as if finding a naked woman in the water was an everyday occurrence.

It could have been, yet he was sure Rowena’s curves would haunt his mind for the nights to come.

“The cold clears the mind wonderfully.”

“What are ye daeing?” Her voice pitched higher as he began removing his boots.

“Joining ye.” He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the lean muscle and scattered scars of a warrior’s body. “Unless ye have some objection tae sharing the water?”

Rowena’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly as she watched him methodically undress.

“I have every objection,” she managed, though her eyes betrayed her by tracking the movement of his hands as he worked the laces of his trews. “This is... this isnae proper. Are ye mad?”

“Proper?” Constantine paused in his undressing to raise an eyebrow at her. “Lass, if ye should ken one thing about me is that I couldnae care less for propriety.”

“That’s nae the point,” she protested, though she couldn’t quite articulate what the point actually was.

Constantine finished removing his clothes and waded into the water without ceremony, his sharp intake of breath the only sign that the cold affected him. The water rose around his lean form as he moved deeper, and he watched Rowena with cold, dark satisfaction.

“Then what is the point?” he asked, settling into the water with obvious relief. “Two people seeking solitude in the same place? There’s nothing scandalous about that.” A smirk curved his lips. “Unless ye’re affected by me naked body.”

“Dinnae be ridiculous! And I was here first. I wish fer a moment alone, so if ye’d be so kind as tae leave…” Rowena fluttered her lashes, but the sharp glint in her gaze left Constantine in no doubt that her request was anything but gentle.

“And miss watchin’ ye try so hard nae tae look at me? Nay, I think I’ll stay right here.”

She scoffed, but her gaze flickered, just for a heartbeat, toward his bare shoulders, the water sliding down over the curve of muscle. “Ye think far too highly of yerself.”

“Aye, if ye say so.”

Rowena gritted her teeth. “Ye’re making me sound unreasonable, Constantine, whilst ye’re the unreasonable one here.”

“Just enjoy the water, Rowena. ‘Tis hardly as scandalous as ye’re makin it out tae be.”

But there was something scandalous about it, Rowena thought desperately. Something intimate and charged about sharing this space, this vulnerability.

The way he moved through the water toward her with easy confidence, closing the distance between them until she could see the dark centers of his eyes, the water beading on his eyelashes.

“Ye should have left,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

“Aye, probably.” He was close enough now that she could feel the displacement of water from his movements. “But I wanted tae make sure ye were safe. There have been strangers spotted in the area.”

The reminder of potential danger should have sobered her, but instead she found herself focusing on the concern in his voice, the protective instinct that had brought him after her despite the impropriety of the situation.

“I can take care of meself,” she said automatically.

“I am sure of that.” His eyes held hers steadily. “But that daesnae mean ye should have tae.”

The simple words, spoken with quiet conviction, sent heat spiraling through her chest. This close, she could see the drops of water clinging to his dark hair and could make out the faint scar that marked his left shoulder. He was beautiful in a harsh, masculine way that made her mouth go dry.

“Ye’re staring,” Constantine observed, a hint of amusement coloring his voice.

“So are ye,” she shot back, though her cheeks burned with embarrassment at being caught.

“Aye,” he agreed without shame. “I am.”

The admission hung between them, honest and unadorned.

Rowena felt something flutter in her stomach, a nervous excitement that had nothing to do with the cold water and everything to do with the way Constantine was looking at her with the focused attention of a man genuinely interested in what he saw.

A strand of her wet hair had caught on her cheek, and before she could reach for it herself, Constantine’s hand was there, his fingers brushing her skin as he tucked the copper curl behind her ear. The contact was brief, gentle, but it sent electricity racing along her nerves.

“There,” he murmured, his hand lingering near her face.

Rowena’s breathing had gone shallow, her heart hammering against her ribs as she stared up at him. This close, she could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes, could feel the warmth radiating from his body despite the frigid water. When he moved slightly closer, she didn’t retreat.

Their fingers brushed beneath the water’s surface, an accidental contact that neither of them pulled away from. Constantine’s thumb traced across her knuckles, a feather-light touch that made her shiver in a way that had nothing to do with temperature.

“Rowena,” he said quietly, her name carrying a weight of meaning she wasn’t sure she was ready to interpret.

The sound of her name on his lips, spoken with that rough intimacy, shattered whatever spell had been weaving around them. Suddenly aware of exactly how close they were, how little separated them except dark water and failing light, Rowena jerked backward.

“This is madness,” she gasped, her composure finally cracking. “Complete madness.”

Without waiting for his response, she turned and began wading toward shore.

The water seemed to resist her movement, clinging to her body as if reluctant to let her go, and she was painfully aware of Constantine’s eyes following her progress.

By the time she reached the shallows, her cheeks were burning with embarrassment and something far more dangerous.

She grabbed her shift from the pile of clothes and pulled it over her head while still partially in the water, the wet fabric clinging to her skin in ways that probably revealed more than it concealed.

“Ye’re angry,” Constantine observed from behind her, his voice maddeningly calm.

“Of course I’m angry,” she snapped, struggling with the laces of her dress. “Ye have nae right tae... tae…”

“Tae what?” He was moving through the water toward shore, apparently unconcerned by his own nakedness. “Tae join ye in a loch? Tae ensure yer safety?”

That last accusation hit closer to home than she cared to admit. “That’s nae what this is about.”

“Then what is it about, lass?” He emerged from the water like some ancient god of war, drops cascading from his lean form, and Rowena found herself staring again despite her frustration. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems like ye’re angry at yerself more than at me.”

The accuracy of his observation only fueled her fury.

She was angry at herself for the way her body had responded to his proximity, for the weakness that had made her want to close the distance between them rather than maintain proper boundaries, for the traitorous part of her mind that was even now cataloging the way water slicked over the planes of his chest.

“Ye’re insufferable,” she managed, finally getting her dress laced with fingers that trembled slightly.

“So ye’ve mentioned.” Constantine began pulling on his own clothes with efficient movements, seemingly unbothered by her declaration. “Daesnae answer me question, though.”

Rowena finished dressing in furious silence, her skin still tingling from their encounter, her mind churning with thoughts she had no business entertaining.

The way Constantine had looked at her in the water, the brush of his fingers against her skin, the heat that had built between them despite the frigid temperature—it all pointed to desires she wasn’t sure she was brave enough to acknowledge.

She’d wanted him to touch her. Had wanted to close the distance between them and discover what it would feel like to be pressed against that lean, scarred body. The realization was both thrilling and terrifying, a complication she hadn’t been prepared for when she’d sought solitude in the loch.

Three days later, the last of the village patients had recovered enough to return home, and Duart Castle was slowly returning to its normal rhythms. Constantine was reviewing reports in his study when Lilias burst through the door without ceremony, her face pale with worry.

“Constantine,” she said breathlessly. “Braither, I’m sorry tae bother ye.” Lilias hesitated only for a moment. “But there’s something’s wrong with the chickens.”

He looked up from his correspondence, noting the genuine distress in her voice. “What dae ye mean wrong?”

“Dead. Fifteen of them, all from the same coop.” She moved closer to his desk, wringing her hands. “And they’d just been fed from that new grain shipment—the one that arrived late from the outer village yesterday.”

Constantine’s attention sharpened immediately. “How late?”

“Two days past when it should have arrived. The carrier said he’d had trouble with his cart, but…” She trailed off, seeing the change in his expression.

“Show me,” Constantine said, rising from his chair.

The chicken coop sat behind the kitchen gardens, and the evidence was immediately obvious. The hens lay scattered across the enclosure, their bodies twisted in ways that suggested they’d died in distress. The grain they’d been eating was still scattered across the ground, mixed with their feed.

Constantine knelt beside one of the dead birds, examining it carefully. No obvious wounds, no signs of attack by predators. But the way they’d died—suddenly, all at once after eating from the same source pointed to only one conclusion.

“Poison,” he said grimly.

Lilias gasped. “But why would someone poison our chickens?”

“They wouldnae.” Constantine stood, his mind already working through the implications. “This was a test.”

“A test of what?”

“Tae see if they could get tainted supplies past our guards and intae our food stores.” His voice was grim as the full scope of the threat became clear. “If they can poison chickens, they can poison people. This was someone testing our defenses, seeing how far they could push before we noticed.”

Lilias’s face went white. “Who would dae such a thing?”

Constantine had his suspicions, but he kept them to himself. Instead, he placed a protective hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Go find Theo. Tell him I need tae see him immediately. And send word tae the guards—nay one enters or leaves the castle without me explicit permission.”

As Lilias hurried away, Constantine remained by the chicken coop, studying the scattered grain and thinking about timing. The shipment had arrived two days late, just as the castle was dealing with the illness outbreak.

Someone had used their distraction as cover, testing their vulnerabilities while their attention was elsewhere.

It was a clever strategy, and it pointed to the kind of enemy who would bide his time, probing for weaknesses while building his own strength.

When Theo arrived, Constantine laid out the situation with military precision. “Double the guard rotations and inspect every delivery personally. Nay exceptions. And I want ye tae ride out tomorrow—check our allies’ routes, make sure nae one’s been compromised or threatened intae cooperation.”

“Ye think this is connected tae the MacKenzie situation?” Theo asked.

“I think someone’s testing how far they can push us before we push back.” Constantine’s voice was flat, deadly. “Time tae make sure they understand the answer tae that question.”