Page 55 of The Laird's Wicked Game

“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 theladyI’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, yearea tetchy bastard.”

21: ALL GAMES MUST END

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.