Page 15 of The Highlander’s Enchanted Healer (Spellbound Hearts #2)

I jerked awake covered in sweat, my heart pounding as the dream of Aria still echoed in my head.

Glancing beside me, I half expected to see the fiery strands of her long silky hair fanning across the pillow next to mine, her face turned to me with her wide blue eyes bright with the passion from my dream.

There was no one there. Of course not. It was just a dream. A very vivid, unwanted dream.

“God’s teeth…” I scrubbed a hand over my face, willing the desire still coursing through me to disappear, but my body strummed with it, refusing to release it.

Never had a woman invaded my dreams this way.

Why her? Why now? She’d been in my home a single night, and already her presence threatened to undo my vow.

I threw back the furs and lumbered out of bed, limbs heavy from my terrible sleep, and then strode to the basin.

With a deep breath, I plunged my face into the freezing water and held myself there until my lungs screamed for air.

When I could take no more, I jerked upright, cold lines of water trickling down my still heated skin and dripping from my hair to splatter into the water.

I stared down at my reflection in the rippling water with a grimace. I was a man at war with himself.

“Ye made a vow,” I muttered to my wavering image. “First vengeance and Alba’s mind restored, then—and only then—pleasure.”

My mind understood, but my body did not seem to care in this moment.

I could still feel the weight of Aria in my arms as I’d carried her to her chamber, and I could smell the scent of heather in her flowing hair, and I could see the way her plump lips had formed those damning words: Ye’re verra handsome.

Even in her overindulged state, she’d affected me more than any woman ever had.

That fact combined with the clinging memories of her made my jaw clench.

I needed to get out of my bedchamber, see to my duties, and stay well away from the lass.

I jerked on my braies and tunic, secured my weapons, and then headed out my bedchamber.

I turned toward the stairs, but then a thought brought me to a stop.

What if Aria felt horrid after her indulgence last night?

As laird, was it not my duty to see to her welfare?

It took but a breath to make my decision, and I changed direction and strode down the empty corridor toward Aria’s bedchamber.

I would check on her, and if she was unwell, I’d send Isla to aid her for the day.

As I approached Aria’s bedchamber, Fenella emerged.

“Why are ye up here doing chambermaid work?” I asked.

“The lasses are shorthanded today and asked if I could aid them.”

I nodded. “Is Lady Aria afoot?”

“Nay. I believe she went to the falconry,” Fenella said with a shrug. “She mentioned going there.”

I frowned. What business would Aria have at the falconry? “Thank ye, Fenella,” I said, turning away to stride toward the eastern passage that would take me to the mews.

As I hurried along, I tried to think why she might have gone there.

An interest in birds? That seemed unlikely.

Mayhap she’d needed to send a message back to her home.

I realized with a frown that I knew very little about her.

I knew Laird Leslie had promised to wed her but had broken the promise when the offer of wedding Ramsey Gordon’s stepsister, Elena, had come his way, and Aria sought out the position here likely because she liked the idea of assisting me in striking a blow at the Gordons, mayhap she even equated it to striking a blow at Laird Leslie himself?

If the Gordon clan fell, then Laird Leslie would be wed to a woman whose brother did no longer had warriors to offer to strengthen Laird Leslie.

I did not think less of her for desiring revenge.

I desired it myself, so I understood the driving need to set a wrong committed against you.

What else did I know of her? She’d lost both her parents, as I had, but how?

I rounded the corner to the mews and stopped.

My chest tightened along with the rest of my body.

Up ahead, with her back to me, stood Aria.

Her copper hair glinted in the sun and fell in tumbling waves down her back.

For a breath, my dream from the night before returned to my mind, and my body reacted to the memory of my hands on her hot bare flesh, sliding over her taut belly and between the valley of her breasts to find my way to her hard nipples, and with my thumb and forefinger, I had teased her mercilessly until she was writhing and screaming my name.

I groaned with the memory. Calling up my will, I shoved the image of her perfect body away to concentrate on what she was doing.

She stood ten paces, give or take a step, from the mews.

The door was ajar, and inside, I could see Brody tending to his duties as head of the mews.

He appeared to be setting out water. I turned my attention back to Aria.

What looked to be a carrier pigeon was perched on her gloved wrist, and she held a small roll of parchment in her fingers.

I watched as she attached it to the ankle of the pigeon.

Was she sending a message home? To do that, she would have had to have brought a pigeon from home with her.

I supposed it made sense if she had hoped to stay here in the position of healer, though, as it would allow her to communicate with her family.

“I did nae ken that ye brought a pigeon from home,” I said into the silence.

Aria swung around toward me, nearly unseating the pigeon, which gave an indignant shake of its body.

“Laird Campbell!” she gasped. “Ye gave me a fright!”

“I did nae mean to,” I replied, closing the distance between us.

When I was directly in front of her, all I could think was how, in my dreams, her breasts were so perfect, so creamy, her thighs curved just so, her skin flawless, and her hair soft as silk tangled in my fingertips.

I fought the desire the dream ignited as I swallowed.

“I went to yer bedchamber to see how ye fared after last night’s…

indulgence, and the chambermaid said she thought ye could possibly be here. ”

A pretty flush crept up her neck, staining her cheeks. She was embarrassed about her state last night. “I’ve a slight ache in my head, but I’ll live.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” I replied, thankful my tone came out even and not husky with yearning. “So, did ye bring yer own pigeon?”

“Aye,” she said, giving a nod.

“Who are ye sending a message to?”

“My brother.” She cleared her throat. “I’m merely letting him know that I’ve arrived safely,” she said as she waved a dismissive hand. “He frets about me, though he should nae.”

“Ah.” I nodded because I understood the feeling of fretting about one’s sister. I worried about Alba all the time. Since my da and mama had died, I felt more like Alba’s da than her brother. “I imagine yer brother feels the same, given yer parents have passed.”

She frowned. “How did ye ken—”

“Ye told Alba, remember? When ye were speaking to her in the bedchamber.”

Her eyes lit, and she nodded. “Oh, aye. I’d forgotten.”

“Understandable. Yesterday was long for ye, I’m certain.”

“Aye, it was.”

“How did yer da serve Laird Leslie?” I asked, wanting to learn more about her and what circumstances caused Leslie to promise her she’d be his wife.

“He was a shipbuilder,” she replied, shifting her weight from foot to foot, as if she did not want to discuss her family. Maybe she suspected I was trying to learn about her. I was not quite ready to give up my quest, whether she was uncomfortable or not.

“Is yer brother a shipbuilder as well?”

“Aye.”

“Is he nae vexed that Laird Leslie broke his vow to ye?”

“Aye, he is.” She nodded. “But what can he do? He’s a mere shipbuilder, and Laird Leslie is his laird. ’Twas his right to make a different allegiance for better gain than he’d would have gotten with me, and it’s my right nae to stay around to watch it.”

“Ye sound as if ye did nae truly wish to wed him,” I said because her voice did nae carry much emotion.

“I do nae,” she replied with vehemence.

I frowned. “Ye mean, ye did nae.

“Aye,” she replied, turning away from me and sending the pigeon soaring into the sky. I got the strangest sensation she had turned away from me to purposely end my questioning. After a moment, she swung back to me once more. “Shall we return to the castle to break our fast?”

So, the lass did not like personal questions. Neither did I, but I was still curious about her. I’d have to be cleverer in getting information. “Aye, we can,” I replied.

“I’ll just return my glove to—”

“Ye can leave it on the stone wall,” I interrupted. “Brody will gather it when his duties inside the mews are completed.

She nodded, took off the leather glove, and set it aside.

As we walked back toward the inner courtyard, I was acutely aware of the space between us—close enough that I could catch her scent on the morning breeze but with enough space between us that my arm or leg would not brush hers.

It was best that way. I was hard as stone just being near her.

“I must apologize for my behavior last night,” she blurted into the quiet. “I did nae realize the strength of the wine.”

“Ye do nae need to apologize,” I replied, my tone terse from my struggle to beat back the lust she inspired. “I’ve underestimated our wine myself.”

She glanced up at me, a strand of red hair blowing across her face in the breeze.

Without thinking, I reached out to brush it away, stopping myself just before my fingers grazed her skin.

As I dropped my hand to my side, clenching it into a fist, she widened the space between us.

Did she feel the battle I fought within me? God’s blood, I hoped not.

“How is Alba this morning?” she asked, likely seeking safer ground for conversation.

“I’ve nae seen her yet,” I admitted, feeling immediately guilty. My first thought should have been for Alba, but instead, it had been for Aria. “I’ll go to see her straight after we break our fast.”

“I’d like to accompany ye, if that’s all right. I’m eager to make progress.”

“As ye wish,” I replied, ensuring my tone was formal as a focused laird’s should be. “Yer skill with her yesterday was impressive.”

“Thank ye,” she replied, and we fell to silence once more as we made our way into the inner courtyard.

“How will ye approach reaching Alba?” I asked, curious.

“Carefully,” she said with a laugh, which I joined. The moment of levity felt foreign, given I rarely allowed them. “But also,” she continued, “I’ll share my life with her, in hopes she will do the same.”

I paused in front of the castle doors as did Aria. She glanced at me, and I asked, “Will ye share hardships ye’ve overcome?”

“Aye,” she replied.

“Things like yer parents’ deaths?” It was too perfect not to bring it up.

She jerked her focus to me, and the coldness I saw there surprised me. “Aye,” she replied, her tone equally as cool as her gaze. “Mayhap.”

“How did yer parents die?” I prodded.

Her eyes flashed like steel against flint. “By treachery.” Each syllable dripped venom, mirroring the poison that had festered in my own heart for years.

“Then we share the same wound,” I said, reaching for the castle doors and holding them open for her.

“I suppose we do,” she whispered, brushing past me close enough that her sweet scent flooded my senses. The sunlight ignited her hair to a burning copper, and my dream seized me by the throat—those wild strands tangled around my fists, her mouth crushing against mine, desperate and hungry.

I tore the vision from my mind, my jaw clenching until pain shot through my temples.

Damn those bewitching blue eyes, that smattering of freckles scattered across skin I ached to touch, that sharp tongue hiding a soul as ravaged as my own.

I’d have split my knuckles against stone if I’d been alone.

Even as I swore to resist her, she consumed my every thought, burning through my defenses like wildfire.