Page 20 of The Laird’s Wicked Game (Highland Scandal #2)

SEATED OPPOSITE RAE, Kylie helped herself to a slice of walnut-studded bread and tore off a crust, dipping it into the bowl of thick mutton and neep stew. Then, taking a mouthful, she chewed slowly.

“This is delicious,” she murmured, reaching for her goblet of wine. “Just when I thin k Cadha can’t improve on her skills, she surprises me.”

Rae’s lips tilted into a boyish smile. “Aye, there’s nothing like a hearty stew when there’s a blizzard outside.”

Indeed, a snowstorm had blown in with the gathering dusk, and outdoors, snow fell in thick, silent drifts. Nonetheless, it was cozy inside the laird’s solar, with the fire crackling and Storm—not making mischief at this hour—curled up before it.

Kylie took another mouthful of stew and searched for something to say .

What was wrong with her this evening? She was usually so comfortable in Rae’s company—never at a loss for words. But not now. In the aftermath of their torrid joining earlier in the day, a lump of dread had settled in her belly. That afternoon, she’d helped Tara make Christmas wreaths downstairs in the hall, with the help of Ailean and Lyle. They were decorating the hall for Yuletide with banks of candles and garlands of ivy and pine. It now smelled like a forest glade. However, Kylie had found it difficult to focus on her task. And as afternoon slid into evening, her uneasiness had grown.

She and Rae had strayed over a line.

They had to cross back.

Clearing her throat, she picked up her goblet then and took a fortifying gulp. “We should be more careful in the future,” she said softly. “Someone might have seen us today … or heard us.”

His features tightened at these words. “Aye.” His voice roughened slightly. “Ye are right.”

Relieved by his agreement, she took another sip of wine. “We still have another two months of our … arrangement to go … but I think it’s important we remind ourselves of the rules.”

He nodded, even as his green eyes shadowed. “Ye believe I have forgotten them?”

“No … but I think we’ve both gotten careless.” Good. She was being firm. It eased the panic that thumped at her breastbone. “We meet to enjoy each other once a week, to explore the things our past lives denied us. But come the spring, we will have to step back and resume our old roles once more.”

Rae held her gaze, an emotion she couldn’t quite place flickering over his face. His lips parted then as if he might say something. However, after a moment, he closed his mouth firmly. “And that’s what ye wish for?” he said finally, his tone veiled now. “For us to go back to our old relationship after the winter?”

Alarm flared once more, and her pulse fluttered. Was he questioning their ‘game’ now? “I think it is wise, do ye not?” she replied carefully.

Silence fell in the solar again, broken only by the crackling of the hearth and the soft whuffling sound of Storm’s breathing. The dog was now fast asleep.

They continued their meal, although Kylie had lost her appetite, as tension rose between them.

After a while, Rae pushed away his half-eaten bowl of stew and leaned back in his chair, swirling his goblet of plum wine before him. “Aye … it’s wise,” he admitted gruffly. “I suppose I’ve gotten greedy of late. Being with ye is like being shown a fabulous banquet that I can only sample but never feast upon.”

Kylie flushed hot at these words. Rae feasted upon her every time they were alone in his bedchamber. Her body still hummed from how he’d taken her that afternoon, and heat pooled in her lower belly when she reminded herself that the following day was Sunday, and soon he’d take her again.

“Ye are greedy, Maclean,” she said, her lips quirking. “Insatiable, even.”

He huffed a laugh, even as his gaze remained serious. “Aye … ye are quite a woman.”

Warmth rose to her cheeks. “I’m glad I please ye.”

“Oh, ye do.” He paused then. “But more than that, I am truly myself when we are together. ”

Kylie fought the urge to squirm in her seat. Suddenly, it felt overly hot in this solar, and the collar of her kirtle seemed to be choking her. She knew she should say something revealing in return, but her tongue wouldn’t form the words. “So, ye no longer feel as if ye have missed out on the pleasures of the flesh?” she asked eventually.

“No,” he replied, his gaze steady. “Ye have given me memories to cherish.”

Her throat tightened then. Mother Mary, she needed to change the subject. It wasn’t a good idea to continue down this road. The truth was that the connection between her and Rae wasn’t just physical. It was deeper. He knew it, and so did she. Over the past weeks, trust had started to build between them, and a bond was forming.

Nonetheless, she was as committed as ever to stopping their liaison with the spring.

Just the thought of what might happen if they didn’t made her feel as if she were falling headfirst into an abyss.

And it terrified her.

“With ye, I have discovered another world, Kylie,” Rae admitted after a pause. “But after all of this is done, I want things to remain amicable between us. I wish us to be friends.”

Kylie’s heart kicked hard against her ribs. Friends . How could she see this strong, kind, sensual man as a friend again?

Cease this! She gave herself a sharp mental slap.

Rae wasn’t the problem at present; she was her own worst enemy.

Dropping her gaze to her bowl of unfinished stew, she drew in a steadying breath before replying, “Of course. ”

Kylie departed swiftly after supper, saying that she’d promised to help Tara finish decorating the hall. Rae had hoped they’d take a wine together by the fire and relax in each other’s company for a while. However, he could see she was anxious to leave—indeed, impatience bristled off his lover—and so he let her go without comment.

In the aftermath, he poured himself a large cup of wine and crossed to the hearth.

He was seated in his chair, staring at the dancing flames, while Storm slumbered, unconcerned by his master’s brooding, when a heavy knock sounded at the door.

Rae pulled a face. He recognized the manner of the knock, and since it didn’t belong to Kylie, he didn’t wish for company. “What is it, Jack?” he barked.

The door swung open, and his brother strode in, shaking snow off his heavy fur cloak before hanging it behind the door. “That’s a warm welcome,” he greeted him. Jack’s cheeks were flushed with cold, yet his gaze was bright. He was a happy man. It emanated from him.

Rae had never admitted such to his brother, but ever since Jack and Tara had come to live at Dounarwyse, he’d been secretly envious of the bond they shared. Their obvious passion for each other and easy rapport had stood out against the reserve between Rae and Donalda. Even after over a decade of marriage, there had been no spontaneous affection between them, whereas his brother and Tara couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

And then, after Donalda’s sudden sickness and swift death, his brother’s contentment gradually chafed him even sorer. Rae had decided not to wed again, and he wasn’t the sort to casually take a lover—or he hadn’t been before Kylie came to live in his broch. All he could see before him was a lonely life where he sacrificed his wants for the good of his people.

But since taking Kylie to his bed, his bitterness had eased, as had the anger that had soured his belly for so long. For the first time, he was truly enjoying the pleasures of the flesh with a woman ripped from his dreams. He too had tasted joy, but this evening, it felt as if the warm cocoon he and Kylie had wrapped themselves in had fallen away.

She was deliberately taking a step back from him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

And to his chagrin, a kernel of resentment formed deep in his belly at the contentment upon his brother’s face. He should be pleased for him—for he knew the trials that Jack and Tara had endured to be together—but this evening, it was difficult to summon charitable thoughts.

“What has got ye in a mood?” Jack asked, eyeing him as he strode to the sideboard and poured himself a generous cup of wine.

Rae didn’t answer. Meanwhile, Storm rose from the fireside, gave a languid stretch, and padded over to the Captain of the Guard, plume-like tail wagging. Jack ruffled the dog’s long curly coat as Storm pushed against him. “At least someone is pleased to see me.”

“I’m sure Tara would be,” Rae replied sourly.

“My lovely wife is busy finishing the decorations for the hall with Lady Grant.” Jack crossed to the chair next to Rae and lowered himself into it. He then stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. “I know better than to intrude on such a task. ”

Rae grunted.

Jack took a swallow of wine, regarding him under a furrowed brow. “What’s wrong with ye, this eve?”

“Nothing.”

Jack snorted. “Liar … but if ye wish to keep yer own counsel, that’s fine by me.”

“Any news from the Watch?” Rae asked then, deliberately shifting their exchange from him to more practical matters.

“None … it’s been blessedly quiet of late.”

Rae nodded, frowning. “I expected to hear word of the Ghost Raiders by now … but it seems they didn’t reive anywhere in The Western Isles this autumn.” Indeed, September through to early November had been foggy. Rae had ensured he had patrols out every evening during the risky months, keeping an eye on the nearby villages, and the coastline for any sign of The Night Plunderer lurking in the mist. However, not only had they not bothered his lands, but it seemed they’d left everyone else alone too. It was odd, and their silence made him nervous.

“Maybe their thwarted attack at Moy at Bealtunn scared them off,” Jack suggested.

Rae’s lips thinned. He too wanted to believe that, but a tension deep in his chest told him the raiders were merely biding their time. Even the joy he’d found with Kylie couldn’t distract him from it. “That’s what they want us to think,” he said after a pause. “They’ll wait until we get complacent and then strike.” He paused then, flashing his brother a hard smile. “But at least we’re prepared now.”

Jack’s auburn brows knitted together. “Aye, although we haven’t had fog for a while … now it’s cold enough to freeze off Lucifer’s balls. ”

Rae snorted. “No, but in spring, when the sea fret rolls in again, we must be ready.”

Silence fell between the brothers then. They slowly sipped at their wine while Storm picked up an old ox bone and began gnawing it before the fire.

“How are my nephews progressing with their studies?” Jack asked finally when it became clear that Rae wasn’t going to restart their conversation.

“Impressively.” Rae glanced his brother’s way to find Jack watching him, his gaze slightly narrowed. “They both had a brief exchange with me in French yesterday.”

Jack smiled. “It seems their tutor has gotten that rambunctious pair in hand.”

“Aye,” Rae replied cautiously. “It would seem so.”

“Ye did well to hire her. I knew she’d work out.”

Rae nodded, although he now fought a growing uneasiness at the direction his brother was heading in. He didn’t wish to discuss Kylie at present.

“Ye two appear to get on well,” Jack observed then.

Rae stilled. Cods, his brother was like Storm on a scent. Taking a fortifying gulp of wine, he then shrugged. “Well enough.”

“On the contrary, brother … before she came to live here, ye were growing increasingly dour. But of late, I’ve actually seen ye smiling … often.” He paused before grimacing. “Although not this eve.”

“Don’t look for things that aren’t there,” Rae replied, even as he started to sweat.

“Have ye thought about wooing her?” Jack pressed on.

“No,” Rae replied curtly.

“Why not? ”

“Because I don’t wish to wed again.”

Jack frowned. “Ye told me that after Donalda died, but I thought it was grief talking. Surely, now that time has passed, ye could consider finding yerself a wife?” He paused then, his green eyes twinkling. “I know Lady Grant comes across as a little spinsterish at times … but ye know what they say about women who—”

“That’s enough,” Rae cut him off sharply. “We aren’t speaking about the lady I’ve hired to instruct my sons in such a manner.” His pulse was racing now. He had to find a way to still his brother’s flapping tongue. The trouble was, Jack was far too observant; he always had been. They’d never spoken of Rae’s marriage to Donalda, or how he’d felt about his wife, but sometimes, Rae had marked the knowing glint in his eyes.

Nonetheless, he wasn’t going to discuss Kylie with him, and he definitely wouldn’t be telling him about the game he’d tangled himself in—one he was losing control of.

Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “I wasn’t.” He gave his head a shake. “Christ’s teeth, ye are a tetchy bastard.”