Page 60 of A Nameless Highland Laird
“Stay,” he heaved. “Stay with me.”
It was a simple enough request, but one that did more for her heart than anything else he had said or done. He didn’t want a healer or to be left alone. And unlike the time he pulled her into his bed, he was completely awake for this request. There was no way she would ever be able to deny him such a thing.
“I will do whatever ye need me to do, Cameron,” she promised.
He didn’t let go of her as she sat on the grass beside him. Despite his request, she still had no idea how to help him so she did what her maid had always done for her. With her free hand, she reached around to his back and started to rub circles, easing the tension out of his muscles. His breaths were still more like pants and his eyes remained unfocused. He needed something else to distract him from what was going on in his body. She began to sing, quietly at first, as she tried to recall the words to that lullaby Elizabeth used to sing, but as she felt his attention shift to her, she grew loud enough for him to hear it too.
It only took one song before Cameron’s breathing had calmed and the muscles under her hands relaxed. Relief flooded through her as she pulled her hands away from him. She had been able to help him this time, in a way that mattered more than she had ever anticipated. Before, she had been terrified of what was happening to him. She didn’t understand the breathing attacks or what they meant. But this time she had been worried that she would lose him and not just because he was the one who knew how to get back to the castle. She no longer craved freedom from her father’s demands or their forced engagement. She wanted to be right where she was—by Cameron’s side, no matter what.
The epiphany had her jumping to her feet. Their closeness was far too much for her to sit in any longer. It was her turn to need help breathing, though she didn’t go far. Just a step or two back so she could breathe something that wasn’t him.
“Thank ye,” he croaked, pushing himself up the tree.
She met his eyes, surprised to find there were tears gathered in hers. Everything that the last half an hour held had happened so quickly that she hardly had time to process it all. But him looking at her like she was his savior was her undoing.
“Ye would have done the same for me,” she answered, doing her best to brush off the emotional tension that grew between them.
He seemed wholly uninterested in following her lead as he stepped away from the tree and towards her, closing that distance once again.
“Nay one has ever done that for me before.”
His voice was thick and tight. She tried to tell herself it was from the breathing spell and nothing more.
“Sing to ye?” She quipped, willing their conversation to turn lighthearted again. “It was nothing. It was the same song my maid would sing to me when I was a wee lass. I just thought that—”
“Nay.” He cut her off and took another step forward, brushing off a tear that had slipped down her cheek. “I meant that nay one has ever cared for me like that.”
Her breath caught in her chest, in awe that anyone as wonderful as him could ever go as unnoticed or uncared for. He took one last step, leaving little more than an inch between them. The thumb that brushed away her tear now rested on the side of her cheek, cupping her jaw.
And then he closed any space that still stood between them. His lips pressed against hers, stealing her breath once more. She had never expected him to be so forward, so exacting. But she loved every second of it.
In the same way that Cameron was, his kiss was gentle and warm while still in control and guiding. His other hand wrapped around her middle and pulled her into him. Her body collided with his sturdiness, reminding her just how secure she was with Cameron. There was no rush to hurry through the motions or fear of being caught. She didn’t feel the pressure to reciprocate as she wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her. Butterflies took up residence in her stomach and made it clear that they would be around for a very long time.
* * *
“Ye should never senda woman to do a man’s work,” Laird Sinclair bit out, crinkling the last letter from his daughter up before throwing it on the floor. “She tells me nothing. Her journey there was a waste of time.”
Blake bent down to collect the letter and started smoothing out the edges, reading his sister’s familiar handwriting. He sighed as he realized that his father wasn’t exaggerating anything. Though, he couldn’t blame Charlotte for her lack of details. As far as she knew, she truly was engaged to Laird Knox. She had no idea that she had been sent there as a spy.
“What are we going to do?” Ciaran asked, speaking the words that no one else dared to say.
“We go along with the plan,” Senga told him, her voice sure and confident as she addressed the room. “The details would have been helpful, but we have two clans against one. The Knox Laird will nae be able to thwart us.”
“Aye,” Laird Sinclair agreed. “We will ride out together and show our united front. As soon as we are there, Charlotte will rejoin us. Knox will see that he is alone and outnumbered. He will surrender and become our captive—”
“Or we will wage war against him,” Ciaran finished for the Laird.
The room pulsed with the hatred each one of them shared for Laird Knox. He had stolen so much from every person there that they all wanted a chance at exacting their revenge on him. They all wanted him to die at their own hand. Only Ciaran was brave enough to voice that though.
“I swear, he will nae get away with all of the crimes he has committed. I will slaughter our father the same way he killed our mother and I will do it with my own sword.”
Senga stepped out of Blake’s embrace and moved to stand beside her brother. She placed a hand on Ciaran’s shoulder and squeezed. When their eyes met, there was a flame burning in both of their eyes, strong enough to raze anything that stood in their way.
“He will pay for the death of our mother and brother. He will pay for all of those he has killed, hurt, or stolen from. And when he is finally dead, the Highlands will sing out in relief that this plague is nay more. Our family will be avenged.”
