Page 25 of The Laird’s Vengeful Desire (The Highland Sisters’ Secret Desires #2)
They lay in comfortable silence for several minutes, the only sounds the whisper of wind through the bare branches and the distant call of a nightjar. Rhona felt her body gradually relaxing, the tension that had plagued her for days slowly melting away.
“Tell me about yer childhood,” Ian said out of the blue.
“What about it?”
“Anythin’. What ye loved, what ye feared, what made ye laugh.” His voice was low and warm in the darkness. “I want tae ken who ye were before all this.”
The request was so unexpectedly intimate that Rhona practically felt her defenses waver. “Why?”
“Because I’ve seen ye as a prisoner, as a healer and as a teacher, but not as just… Rhona.”
The simple honesty in his words undid something in her chest. “Ironically enough, I used tae sneak out tae watch the stars,” she admitted quietly. “Me maither would tell us tales about the constellations, and I’d lie in the garden fer hours, makin’ up me own tales.”
“What sort of tales?”
“Adventures, mostly. Stories where I was the hero instead of just the laird’s daughter waitin’ tae be married off.” She smiled at the memory. “I had this grand fantasy that I’d become a great healer, travelin’ the Highlands and savin’ lives as far as me feet could carry me.”
“It wasnae just fantasy,” Ian said quietly. “Ye did become a great healer.”
“I’m nae great at anythin’.” Rhona protested. “I just learned what I could from Margot.”
“Ye saved me eye.”
“I gave ye a black eye.”
“And then ye fixed it.” Ian’s voice held gentle amusement. “With skill that impressed even me, and I’ve seen plenty of battlefield healers.”
Rhona felt warmth spread through her chest at his praise. “What about ye? What were ye like as a wee lad?”
Ian was quiet for so long that she thought he might not answer. When he finally spoke, his voice carried the weight of old pain.
“Angry, mostly. After me faither died, I felt like the entire world had betrayed me.” He paused, staring up at the stars.
“I was only twelve, but suddenly, I was expected tae be the man of the house. Tae take care of me maither and protect our lands. I was furious that death had stolen me childhood.”
“That’s a heavy burden fer such young shoulders.”
“Aye. Too heavy, as it turned out. When me grandfaither finally came fer me, I was more than ready tae leave.” Ian’s laugh held no humor. “’Course, that brought its own problems. Bein’ the grandson of a disgraced Wallace made us outcasts wherever we went.”
“Is that why ye hated the clan?”
“Partly. Me grandfaither told me about what they’d done, the cruelties they’d committed in the name of power. I swore I’d never be like them.” he turned his head to look at her. “Strange how fate works, isn’t it? Here I am, laird of the very clan I despised.”
“But ye’re nae like them,” Rhona said with quiet conviction. “Ye could have forced me intae marriage, or worse. Instead, ye’ve treated me with more respect than I expected from any Wallace.”
They fell silent again, but it was a comfortable silence now, filled with the possibility of understanding rather than the tension of conflict.
Rhona found herself studying Ian’s profile in the moonlight, noting the steady way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the relaxed set of his shoulders that spoke of a man finally at peace, and the gentle expression that replaced his usually stern demeanor.
He’s beautiful . And kind. And all manner of things I shouldnae be thinkin’ about.
“Rhona?” Ian’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Aye?”
“Thank ye.”
“Fer what?”
“Fer seein’ me as more than just me name. Fer believin’ I have a heart when I’m nae always certain of it meself.”
The words hit her with unexpected force, revealing a vulnerability in him that made her chest ache with longing. Without thinking, she reached out and placed her hand over his where it rested on the blanket between them.
“Ye dae,” she said tenderly. “A good one. I can see it in how ye treat people, how ye’re rebuildin’ instead of just rulin’.”
Ian’s fingers turned beneath hers, capturing her hand in his warm grasp.
Dawn found them curled together like two puzzle pieces that had finally found their perfect fit, Rhona’s head pillowed on Ian’s shoulder, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist. The morning light painted them in shades of gold and rose, transforming what might have been scandalous into something achingly beautiful
Rhona woke slowly, awareness returning in gentle waves.
Warmth surrounded her, solid and reassuring, and she found herself reluctant to fully emerge from the peaceful cocoon of sleep.
It took several moments for her to realize that the warmth came from Ian’s body pressed against hers, that his arm held her so close that they’d spent the night together under the stars.
Saints preserve . What on earth will people think? What daes this mean?
Ian stirred beside her, his arm tightening momentarily before he too seemed to realize their position. His eyes opened, meeting hers with an expression of wonder and something else, something more dangerous.
“Good mornin’.” He said softly.
“Ian, we–” Rhona began, but the words stuck in her throat as she took in the sight of him in the morning light.
He’s magnificent.
His hair was mussed from sleep, his shirt wrinkled, and there was a softness in his mossy-green eyes that made her heart flutter against her ribcage.
“We slept,” he finished softly. “Naethin’ more.”
“But if someone saw–”
“They’ll see what they see.” Ian’s hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing across her skin with heartbreaking tenderness. “I willnae apologize fer the best sleep I’ve had in years.”
The confession sent heat flooding through her, followed by immediate panic. This was moving too fast, becoming too real, too dangerous to her carefully guarded heart.
“I have tae go,” she said abruptly, pulling away from his touch.
“Rhona, wait–”
But she was already scrambling to her feet, gathering her cloak with hands that trembled slightly. “I cannae… this cannae…”
“What cannae it be?” Ian rose as well, his eyes searching her face with an intensity that made her feel exposed in ways that had nothing to do with their circumstances.
“This!” she gestured helplessly between them, her voice cracking slightly on the word.
“Whatever this is… it’s too… dangerous, too complicated, too…
” she struggled for words that could encompass the magnitude of what was happening between them.
“I need tae think… and I cannae dae that clearly when ye look at me like that . ”
“Like what?” Ian stepped closer, close enough that she could see the tiny golden flecks in his green eyes, could feel the warmth radiating from his robust frame.
“Like I matter,” she whispered, the admission torn from her before she could stop it. “Like I’m more than just somethin’ tae be solved or a bargainin’ chip fer ye tae use in yer political schemes.”
“Because ye are,” Ian said simply, his voice rough. “Rhona, ye’re so much more than that. Ye’re…” he reached out to touch her face, then let his hand fall. “Ye’re everythin I never knew I was lookin’ fer.”
The words hit her like tidal wave, beautiful and terrifying in their honestly.
Without another word, she fled toward the castle, leaving Ian standing alone in the garden with the sunrise painting the sky behind him and the echo of footsteps the only sound in the crisp morning air.
As she reached her chambers, Rhona’s heart hammered even more fervently from withing the confines of her chest, like a wild thing seeking escape. Because the truth was, she couldn’t run from what was happening between them.
But even more unsettling than that, was the fact that she didn’t want to.
The truth settled over her like mist – slow, encompassing and impossible to ignore.
It seemed her heart had made a very important decision without her input – her heart had chosen Ian Wallace.
She wasn’t just attracted to his undeniable physical appeal, though that was certainly there, but drawn to the man himself.
Standing at her chamber window, watching the sun paint the sky in shades of gold, orange and rose, Rhona MacAlpin admitted the truth she’d been fighting against since the moment Ian had first looked at her with those remarkable, captivating, mossy-green eyes – she was lost. Completely, utterly, irrevocably lost to a man she was supposed to hate with everything inside her – a man whose touch made her forget every reason why loving him was impossible.
A man who’d somehow become her salvation and her downfall, all at once.