Page 17

T he walk to the study was brisk and quick, and Keira tried her best to channel all her anger into her feet and hands as she walked.

“If ye walk any harder, lass, ye might destroy the entire castle.”

Keira didn’t respond to his snarky remark. Normally, she would have responded with something snarkier, but the words hanging on the tip of her tongue were scathing, and the last thing she wanted to do was unleash them while they were still in the passageway.

They walked further up the stairs leading to the Laird’s quarters, the opposite of where the castle’s main study was located. She continued to walk anyway, refusing to speak. She didn’t need to look over her shoulder to know that her lack of response might have shocked him.

“Ye have never needed an invitation to jump into a matter and talk me ears off. Why are ye quiet all of a sudden?” he asked again, easily keeping up with her.

They finally got to the door that led to the study, and Keira opened it, ignoring the dust and smell of old unopened books that drifted out of the room and permeated the air for the briefest second. She walked in first, and Evander followed.

“How dare ye?” she snapped, her voice sharp, as if she had injected some kind of venom into it and was fully prepared to let loose.

She was certain he could see it on her face as well, because the surprise that flickered in his eyes continued to grow with each passing second.

“What is going on?”

“The last thing ye want to do now is play coy with me, Laird Kincaid.”

“It’s Lair—wait, did ye just call me Laird Kincaid?”

Keira rubbed her hands across her brow. “Like I said, this isnae a joke. Ye shouldnae have done that.”

The utter cluelessness on Evander’s face continued to grow. “Look, if this is about Thistle’s house, I didnae think ye would care that?—”

“This isnae about the damned goat, Evander. Also, Thistle? Of all names, that was the one ye decided to call him?”

“I didnae think anything was wrong with the name. I suppose ye do?”

“Nay, I dinnae. I just didnae think ye of all people could name a?—”

“Me of all people? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Ye ken exactly what it means. I informed ye earlier nae to play with me. I am nae in the mood. Especially nae after what just happened.”

Evander eyed her narrowly. “So, this isnae about the goat?”

Keira slammed her fists on the desk. “Nay, it isnae about the damn goat—how many times do I have to say that?!”

Silence fell over the room, coated in the dust that flew up from the desk.

Keira rarely used the study. Part of her couldn’t shake the thought that some part of Fletcher haunted the room, waiting for her to get engrossed in some book and then terrify the hell out of her.

It was a famous piece of lore that the spirit of a laird never left his castle.

She didn’t want to be caught unguarded, in case Fletcher’s spirit decided to manifest itself in any shape or form.

Even now, as she stood in the study with Evander, with the door closed, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Fletcher was hovering in one of the corners, watching.

“Ye seem quite angrier than normal, lass. Is there an issue?”

“Lady Kincaid?” Keira blurted.

“Aye. What is the matter with her?”

“There was a Lady Kincaid this entire time, and ye forgot to mention her?”

“I didnae think I had to.”

Keira threw her hands up in frustration.

Was he deliberately doing this? Was some part of him enjoying watching her spiral this hard and this low? Was this all quite entertaining for him?

“Oh, ye didnae think it was an important piece of information, did ye? Didnae think it was yer duty to tell me ye had a wife?!”

“A wife ?” Evander echoed, almost taken aback.

Keira didn’t notice the tone of his voice, and if she did, she was too angry to care.

“When were ye going to tell me? Before or after ye took advantage of me inexperience with men?”

A brief silence, like a respite, descended on the room—the moment in which Keira seemed to realize she was short of breath. With Evander’s dark eyes on her, she took a couple of long, deep breaths.

“What do ye mean by yer inexperience?” Evander asked, the curiosity in his voice blatant.

“That was all ye heard from everything I just said?”

“It was what I didnae understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand. It is quite simple, actually. The former Laird died.”

“Aye, I was made aware of that.”

Keira took a step closer. “He died on our wedding night.”

She paused and waited for him to register what she had just said.

The realization crashed into him just as quickly as she hoped it would. His eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open in shock.

“Ye mean?—”

“Aye.”

“He never claimed ye?”

“Never.”

“Oh.” He took a step closer to her. “That makes sense, now that I think about it.”

“I am glad ye find all of this quite entertaining. Was that why ye have refused to tell me about yer wife? The lady of the castle?!”

“She is nae me wife. She’s me sister-in-law.”

Keira swallowed. “What?”

“Aye. She was married to me older braither.”

Keira was rooted to the spot, unable to do anything else. Not even give a proper counterargument or deliver a snarky remark. How had she gotten it all wrong?

“Is this another joke?”

“Why would I joke about that? The little boy, Tommy, is me nephew.”

Keira frowned, full realization finally dawning on her.

Of course . The boy resembled Evander because he was his father’s brother. She was so caught up in her regret that she didn’t see Evander moving closer to her until he was barely a foot away from her.

“Is that why ye have been angry the entire time?” he asked.

The scent of his— her bathing oil—filled her senses. He must have used the vial she had handed him the other day.

“Lassie,” he asked, the disbelief clear in his voice, “were ye jealous?”

She wanted to move. She wanted to unglue herself from her spot and walk out of the study—or better still, pray for the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

Not only had she mistakenly associated him with his sister-in-law, but he was now aware that she hadn’t consummated her marriage with the former Laird before he died.

“So?”

“So what?”

“Admit it, ye were jealous.”

A scoff escaped her lips, and yet her feet still refused to move. For the oddest of reasons, she felt as if she was bolted to the ground, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get her feet to move.

Was this Fletcher’s lingering spirit at work? Was he watching her? Was he watching how she tried to look anywhere but at Evander’s face, even though it was an impossible task as he stood right before her?

“Ye flatter yerself.”

“’Tis nae flattery if it is the truth.”

“And who are ye to determine what the truth is and what it isnae?”

She swallowed as her eyes traveled down his face to his chest, the outline of which she could see through his shirt.

“The truth is the truth if it’s obvious,” he responded and took another step closer.

Now, there was no way out. She couldn’t look anywhere but right at him. And from the way her heart pounded hard in her chest, she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist him for much longer.

“What are ye even talking about?” she asked, her voice wavering with the firelight that surrounded them.

She could feel his breath on her skin. The scent of his bathing oil filling her nostrils even harder, and the heat radiating from his body seeped into her. Her throat bobbed in sheer defiance, as if she had any control over the situation, when she didn’t.

Evander, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying this a little—perhaps a little too much—and she hated the smug look on his face. First, he thought she had been jealous over him—a feat she was certainly not getting over anytime soon. And now he had the guts to think he had power over her.

“Mr. Kincaid, I?—”

“Dinnae ye dare,” Evander warned, his voice on the barest edge of a growl.

Before Keira could respond, his lips crashed into hers with a force that stole her breath. A lustful groan escaped him. Her eyes widened for the briefest of moments in utter shock and denial.

This is nae happening. Nae again. Nae when people were sitting merely a floor below them.

She could stop him. All she had to do was slam her hands on his chest and push him away.

He lifted her off the ground and placed her on the desk, ignoring the books and parchment strewn across the wooden surface.

Push him away. Push him away, Keira.

She couldn’t. Her hands did slam into his chest, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that. Not while her lips melted into his like caramel in the sun. The air between them brimmed with unspoken words and the dust from the unopened books.

Evander pulled her closer to him, and the heat of their bodies slowly began to mingle. The air was soon filled with the scent of sweat and bathing oils, Keira’s heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her ears. Her pulse fluttered at her throat.

Their kiss was raw, desperate, and all-consuming. His hands found her waist and pulled her even closer until she could feel the hard planes of his chest pressed hard against her breasts. They were glued together, fervently caught up in a moment neither of them could or wanted to stop.

His tongue swept across her lips, seeking entry every time, and over and over again, she invited him in. Their kiss grew more heated, more messy, more urgent, like they couldn’t get close enough, like she couldn’t get enough.

Her fingertips grazed his muscles, almost feeling the dull thud of his heartbeat beneath his skin.

Evander groaned, his hands sliding down to the small of her back, his fingers digging into the fabric of her dress. His lips repeatedly devoured hers, and she arched into him, into his hardness and his sheer strength.

He pulled back, just enough to catch his breath.

“Ye’re killing me,” he growled, the sound deep and utterly primal.

She could feel his arousal pressed against her, the deep ache in her core and the way every nerve in her body fired up at every contact.

They paused briefly, as if they wanted to bask in the moment and linger in the silence that seemed to stretch on between them for eternity.

“Keira.” Her name escaped his lips in a groan, and his lips resumed tracing her jawline.

The feel of his warm breath and his lips down her neck made her shiver.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she tilted her head to the side, allowing him more access.

His teeth grazed the skin of her neck, and a low gasp escaped her lips, the sensation pulsing through her like water pounding through a mountain.

Her hands trembled as they slid back up his shoulders, then around his neck, and she pulled him in for another kiss.

She couldn’t stop now. She never wanted to.

Her body ached for him, and she would be completely lying to herself if she didn’t say that every inch of her skin called his name, filled with need .

As if her brain snapped back into place after wandering for what seemed like forever, the kiss ended just as quickly as it had started. Her lips were swollen, and her core throbbed and ached.

“Nay,” she whispered, looking away almost immediately.

She couldn’t believe this had happened. That she had let it go this far.

“What?” Evander asked, his eyes narrowing and searching hers as if she suddenly got possessed by something.

“Nay, I cannae do this,” she whispered, jumping down from the desk.

She looked up at him, at the face she couldn’t get enough of merely a few minutes ago. She still couldn’t, and part of her did not want to witness what would come if she remained in the room with him a moment longer.

“This cannae keep happening. It shouldnae even happen in the first place.”

Evander opened his mouth to speak, but a knock sounded at the door, freezing the words on his tongue.

“Uncle, are ye here?”

Keira swallowed. Uncle. He wasn’t lying, after all.

“Keira—”

“Look, I forbid ye from putting yer hands on me ever again as long as we are under the same roof.”

“Ye forbid me to?—”

“Ye heard me. Very clearly, I might add,” Keira hissed.

Before Evander could say anything else, she turned on her heel and walked to the door, her hands frantically smoothing out the parts of her dress that had been wrinkled from the brief encounter.

She pulled the door open and found the curious little boy staring up at her, his wide eyes enchanting. “Aye, lad. Yer uncle is inside.”

“Keira,” Evander called again, but she didn’t respond.

She wouldn’t. She couldn’t bear to turn around and look at him. She didn’t know what she could do, and she wasn’t ready to find out either. Instead, she watched Tommy walk into the study and then left.

As she trudged down the hall, headed to the closest staircase, she could hear Tommy’s voice.

“Did ye ken there were baby goats here?” A hint of curiosity laced his question.

Soon, she disappeared down the stairs, her heartbeat matching the rhythm of her footsteps. She hurried across the floor, a new sense of determination welling up inside her.

She would never be caught off guard like that ever again. In the time she had left in the castle, the best thing she could do was make sure that she did not have to spend more time with Evander than necessary. And she certainly did not need to do it alone.

She squeezed her eyes shut in despair. Every single time she tried to confront him about something, some undeniable connection managed to pull them together and he became irresistible to her.

She had never felt such conflicting emotions until him. She couldn’t do this anymore. Not while they both lived under the same roof. Not when she was supposed to see him as the man who invaded and stole her home. She had to do something, and she had to do it now.

Her eyes flew open, and she spotted Stella walking toward her, her hands folded before her as her feet crossed the floor.

“Stella,” she called, the mere sight of her maid giving her the most wonderful idea.

“M’Lady,” Stella greeted, a warm yet polite smile on her face.

“I need yer help with something, and it is quite important.”

“Of course, M’Lady,” Stella responded eagerly.

Keira took her arm and steered her in the direction she had come from. If she was going to avoid Evander, she must make it absolute. She had to eliminate anything that could make her get caught in a corner with him.

And she had the best idea about how to exactly achieve that.

“What do ye ken about tapestries?”