Page 21 of The Laird’s Wicked Game (Highland Scandal #2)

Two months later …

“CAN WE GO a little farther?”

Lyle’s face was so hopeful that Kylie couldn’t help but smile. “Very well … just a few furlongs more,” she replied. “But then we must return to the broch.”

“Aye,” Ailean piped up. “I don’t want to miss out on venison pie.”

“That’s right,” Kylie agreed, still smiling. “Neither do I.” She too had heard about the delicious noon meal Cadha and her assistants were preparing. The laird and his men had been hunting a week earlier and brought back two young hinds. And now that the meat had hung long enough, venison pie had been promised—a treat indeed.

Kylie continued walking along the path, while the lads ran ahead. They’d just finished a conversation in French. It had been stilted, but the longest exchange either of the lads had managed so far. They always did better when they were outdoors, walking with her. However, this winter had been bitterly cold. It was now heading toward late February, and large patches of snow still covered the ground, while the rest of it had turned to mud.

All three of them were bundled up in leather and fur, yet the wind still chapped their faces. All the same, it was a joy to be out of the broch. The boys had run about like excited puppies since the moment they passed under the gates. It was hard not to smile, and as she walked, a feeling of contentment settled deep into her bones. She’d never fitted in anywhere as she did at Dounarwyse.

They crossed over a bridge then, spanning a burn that ran down the cleft between two hills before emptying out into the Sound. Rushing water foamed and bubbled over smooth rocks.

“Where is all the water coming from?” Ailean asked, halting on the bridge and peering over the wooden railing.

“From there.” Kylie pointed to where smooth green hills rose to the west. “The snow is melting on higher ground and turning into water.”

“When can we go exploring?” Lyle asked, his round cheeks flushed with cold and excitement. “I want to climb Dùn da Ghaoithe again.”

“I’m sure yer father will take ye out,” she replied. “For spring isn’t far off.” Her belly clenched as she said these words. Spring loomed on the horizon. Despite the chill in the air, there was a warmth to the sun that hinted that winter was drawing to a close.

And soon, the game she and Rae had embarked upon would also end.

The trio resumed their walk, Ailean and Lyle skipping ahead once more before they picked up sticks and pretended to duel .

As she watched them, Kylie’s mood, which had been light when she’d left the broch, darkened.

It had been a mistake to think about Rae. After their conversation at Yule, they’d resumed their weekly liaisons, with her tiptoeing to his chamber every Sunday night. And in the interim, the laird hadn’t asked her to join him for a meal alone or strayed beyond the limits they’d established.

She’d been grateful.

In truth, she’d braced herself for Rae to make another attempt to deepen their relationship. But he hadn’t. Part of her had been disappointed, yet she crushed that response whenever it tugged at her. They spent much of their time together in bed, but they talked a lot too. Their exploration of The Art of Coupling had allowed her to learn a lot about the chieftain of Dounarwyse, and about herself.

He had a dry sense of humor, a sense of the ridiculous, and tenderness that took her breath away sometimes—while she was bolder and more adventurous than she’d even thought. But more than anything, she liked who she was when she was with him. Rae made her feel safe.

And that was part of the problem. She liked the man far too much.

That wasn’t part of their agreement.

All the same, ever since their supper together at Yule, she’d marked a change in him. He was still as hungry for her each week, as passionate, but there was a slight reserve in his manner when they weren’t abed. And when she observed him at mealtimes, or when she saw him on the walls with his men or talking to Jack in the barmkin, he seemed a little subdued.

Was she the cause ?

Clenching her jaw, she picked up her skirts and stepped over a large puddle. By the Saints, think about something else! Her gaze slid left then, over the rough surface of the Sound. The wind had whipped it up this morning, although the shadow of the mainland was sharp against a robin’s egg blue sky.

Perthshire, and Meggernie Castle, lay in that direction.

Longing tugged at her chest, not for her lover this time though. Indeed, she’d received a letter from Makenna the day before, with news from Meggernie, and reading her sister’s missive, and her complaints about the Campbells pushing south again, had left her unsettled. Two days before getting word from Makenna, a letter had also arrived from Liza. All was well at Moy, and Liza planned to visit them at Bealtunn.

Of course, this news had pleased Kylie—despite that she still didn’t approve of her sister’s marriage—yet it couldn’t shift the discomfort that sat on her chest like a boulder these days.

The nagging intuition that she was heading for disaster.

Anxiety fluttered up once more, although she tried to ignore it. Life is good , she told herself firmly, and ye’d do well to stay focused on the progress ye have made with Ailean and Lyle. Aye, she had. The lads were learning swiftly now. These days, they came to their lessons with an enthusiasm that warmed her.

“Look!” Lyle exclaimed then, throwing aside his stick and racing away down the path. “Snowdrops!”

Laughing, Ailean took off after him.

Quickening her pace, Kylie followed them to where a patch of slender green shoots—with delicate white bonnets that waved in the wind—grew farther up the path, poking up through a patch of melting snow.

Indeed, they were snowdrops—spring flowers that were symbols of hope and friendship in adversity .

“Spring is here!” Ailean said, flashing her a grin. “At last!”

Kylie forced a smile in return. “Almost,” she replied, even as her belly dropped to her boots. “We haven’t reached March yet … don’t wish time away, lad.”

She was a coward. She should have told Rae that day of her discovery.

After all, she’d made it clear. As soon as the first of the snowdrops appeared, their game would conclude.

But she hesitated, waiting until two days later, after they’d lain together again.

Kylie collapsed panting against Rae’s sweat-slick chest, her body trembling in the aftermath of their passion, pleasure still pulsing through her womb. And as she lay there, and the world stopped spinning, her thoughts turned to the flowers she’d seen glistening in the late winter sunlight.

It’s time.

Finally gathering her courage, she propped herself up onto an elbow and gazed down into Rae’s ruggedly handsome face. His eyes were still closed.

“I’ve seen my first snowdrops,” she murmured.

His eyelids flickered open, and his gaze shadowed, before his mouth curved into a wry smile. “So did I … a couple of days ago now … but I was loath to tell ye.”

Kylie grimaced. So, they were both fazarts. She decided not to admit that she too had hesitated to tell him. She’d wanted one last time together.

They both had .

Rae huffed a sigh then. “Our arrangement is at its conclusion then?”

She nodded, even as an ache rose beneath her breastbone. “Aye, all games must end … sooner or later.”

Their gazes fused before he finally replied, “Never have six months passed so quickly. It seems the blinking of an eye since we opened The Art of Coupling.”

She gave a soft snort. “Aye, but we’ve worked our way through it now.” Her breathing quickened then. “And … these days, we need no guide.”

“No.” He lifted a hand, brushing Kylie’s hair back from her face. “I will miss this … closeness.”

As will I . How she wanted to say those words, yet she stopped herself. Making such an admission would make severing this connection even harder.

Something shifted in his eyes then, and she tensed, bracing herself for him to ask for another month or two. She’d told herself before coming to him tonight that she’d remain strong. If he suggested such a thing, she was to deny him. The past six moons had flown, yet at the same time, it was too long. Each murmured conversation they had, in the aftermath of their coupling, each tender, unguarded moment, brought her closer to the brink of falling into a chasm.

Kylie had to pull herself back from it.

But Rae surprised her.

He didn’t ask for more time or try to wheedle another promise out of her. Instead, he continued to look up at Kylie as his thumb caressed her cheek. And the softness of those fern-green eyes made her want to weep.

How easy it would be to love this man, to open herself up to him .

Nonetheless, being his lover for a spell was one thing, remaining in that role longer term was another. She could see trouble ahead and would do all she could to prevent it.

The moment drew out, and awkwardness stole over her. Clearing her throat, she favored him with a brittle smile. “There’s no need to look glum just yet, Maclean,” she teased, even as the ache under her breastbone intensified. “The night is still young … ye can have me again, if ye wish?”

He laughed before, to her surprise, shaking his head. “If tonight is the last we shall have together, then I’d rather spend the rest of it talking to ye, than swiving ye.” His mouth curved once more, even if his gaze remained solemn. “Going forward, things will be different.”

Kylie swallowed, even as she cursed this man for his decency. Couldn’t he be selfish and callous, as Errol had been? Couldn’t he say something that would make it easier to harden her heart against him?

Usually, Rae fell asleep after Kylie left him.

But not tonight.

Listening as the door whispered shut one last time, and his lover stealthily made her way back to her bedchamber, he stared up at the beams crisscrossing the ceiling above.

His self-restraint amazed him. So many times over the last few hours, he’d ached to tell Kylie that he was in love with her. And yet, he’d somehow managed to swallow the words, to let their last night together pass without a declaration that would likely end in his humiliation .

No, it was one that definitely would shame him.

She’d made her wishes clear. He might be pining for her like a lovesick youth, but she remained emotionally reserved. Sometimes, and tonight was one such occasion, it felt as if there were an iron door between them. She’d let him get close over the past months, but at a certain point her shields had come up, and there was no getting past them.

Of course, he’d known this moment was near. He’d been out riding when he’d seen the snowdrops.

Too soon.

He’d pushed his discovery to the back of his thoughts then and gotten on with his day. All the same, he’d dreaded this evening.

After their final tumble, he’d wanted to converse with his lover intimately for a while, for he enjoyed the closeness that had developed between them. He’d never felt so comfortable with a woman, so accepted for himself—and on a selfish level, he wished to have one last exchange he could revisit whenever loneliness sank its claws into him. But things had been awkward after Kylie had told him she’d seen her first snowdrops. Instead of talking, they’d merely held each other. And when she’d finally risen from the bed and pulled her night-rail back on, before slinging her cloak about her shoulders, he’d felt as if she were taking a piece of him with her.

Smitten fool.

Aye, he was.

Rolling over, Rae buried his face in the pillow and growled the saltiest curse he knew. This game had been his idea, but he’d overestimated his ability to be able to share his bed with Kylie Grant for six months and not fall for her.

She had managed though, and the realization left a bitter taste in his mouth.