Page 33 of Claimed By a Savage Scot
“I cannae help it, Catriona,” he admitted softly. “In truth, watchin’ over ye is almost like second nature tae me. Like breathin’.”
Her eyes widened slightly, and the frown vanished as her brows rose in obvious surprise. She did not speak but studied him for a few moments, as if looking for something in his face.
Malcolm’s gaze drifted to her lips, tracing their outline. Heat coiled in his gut.
This time, it was she who moved toward him, her head tilted back as she gazed up at him.
Her lips parted. “Malcolm.”
It was the merest whisper, yet he heard a wealth of meaning in it. He knew he was undone then. His world telescoped to just the two of them, and he felt himself tilting towards her, angling so that his mouth would meet hers. Because he had to know how she tasted…
Then, the sound of boots scuffling on the cobbles, masculine laughter. Two guards were passing close by, shattering the intimate moment.
Malcolm abruptly righted himself and took a swift step backwards, putting space between him and Catriona. Her cheeks glowing pink, she pulled her cloak about her chin, as if she would sink down inside the garment and disappear.
The guards paused to touch their caps respectfully. “Good evenin’, me laird,” said one. “A fine night fer the watch, eh? Och, good evenin’, me lady, I didnae see ye there.”
His mate muttered a similar greeting.
Malcolm returned them both a curt nod, restraining the urge to wring their necks. Catriona’s smile of acknowledgement was strained too, he noticed.
The men went on their way, seemingly oblivious to their unwitting ruination of the moment.
Malcolm stood gazing at some indeterminate point above Catriona’s head, afraid to look at her, afraid of what he might do if he did. Every muscle in his body was tense with frustration, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. The silence between them was so deafening, his ears began to hurt.
Finally, he regained enough control to clear his throat and say in a relatively normal tone, “Ye should go inside now, Catriona. And please, dinnae come out here again alone like that. ’Tis nae safe. Come, I’ll escort ye tae the door.”
She walked at his side without a word, head down, hobbling on her stick. When she had gone inside, he walked back toward the well and spent a few minutes trying to convince himself that the two guards had saved him and Catriona from a folly that could cost the both of them dearly.
Finally, feeling in possession of himself once more, he set off for the guardhouse to meet with Ewan.
Once Catriona was back in the privacy of her chamber, she threw off her cloak and gave way to the confusing tumult of excitement, disappointment, and hurt the encounter with Malcolm at the well had evoked in her.
Added to that, she felt ashamed of the way she had so wantonly surrendered to the pent-up desire to feel his lips on hers. She knew it was sinful—shewas sinful!—as the powerful need she had succumbed to in that moment, to kiss and be kissed by Malcolm, went against all the nuns had taught about her propriety.
But it would have been her very first kiss, and with Malcolm, and she had wanted it so much it had hurt!
Not knowing what to do with herself, she wandered the room aimlessly for a quite a while, struggling to regain her composure and make some sense of her roiling emotions.
Her eyes suddenly alighted on Malcolm’s cloak, which Isla had hung neatly on the back of the door, clearly intending to return it to him. For Catriona, the memory of his kindness in insisting she wear it now felt marred by what she keenly felt as his rejection. Suddenly, she did not know why, it seemed the most important thing in the world to return his cloak at once.
Full of resolve, she picked up her stick and crossed to the door. Taking down the cloak, she draped it over her arm, and left the chamber. At Malcolm’s door, she halted and paused for a few moments, screwing up her courage before knocking. Silence greeted her. She knocked again. Still no response. Determined to return the cloak, she gingerly opened the door and peeped inside.
A fire was banked up in the hearth, casting a warm red glow over the chamber, which appeared to be empty. Though Malcom was not there, she decided to leave the cloak anyway. So, she entered the room, swiftly taking in the somewhat spartan, masculine décor, inhaling the frustratingly enticing mix of sandalwood and musk that lingered in the air.
Her eyes were inevitably drawn to the enormous, carved bed, with its luxurious hangings and fur coverlet. Her mouth went dry as a fleet of half-formed but definitely sinful images rushed through her mind. She pushed them away, shocked at herself, and suddenly glad of Malcolm’s absence. Steeling herself against her own wanton imaginings, she crossed to the bed, about to lay the cloak upon it and leave.
But she forgot all about it when her attention was caught by a shaft of moonlight lancing through the high, arching windows. It pulled her to the nearest window, intrigued to discover the view that Malcolm woke up to everyday. With the cloak still bundled in her arms, she stood there looking out.
The window gave out onto the main courtyard, everything, right up to the outer wall, was clearly visible even in torchlight.Anyone looking out could see exactly what was going on below, making it the perfect eyrie for a laird.
But the vista extended far beyond the castle walls. Under the bright half-moon, Catriona could see out across the cultivated valley to wild moorland, and she could even glimpse the white-topped mountains in the distance. Spellbound, she lingered for several minutes, quietly taking the magnificent beauty of his domain.
Malcolm ran a hand through his hair as he entered his chamber, his thoughts troubled. Pressing matters to do with fortifying the castle against attack were entangled with memories of the disastrous encounter with Catriona by the well earlier. He was scowling, angry with himself for failing to stick to his resolve not to give in to the greatest temptation he had ever encountered: Catriona Grant.
But by God, he had wanted to kiss her—he had never wanted to kiss a woman so much in his life! And he had the feeling that once he started kissing her, he might never stop.
He was lucky those guards came by when they did.
