Page 46 of Laird of Wrath

“Be me guest.” Rhea climbed back up on her mare.

Callum gathered Slàinte’s reins and draped the saddle over his back, then mounted behind her. Suddenly, she was entirely too aware of how close he was.

She said nothing as he nudged her mare into motion, riding slowly down the path with Slàinte following them. And yet every step had his chest brushing against her back, driving her crazy with every passing moment.

Rhea hadn’t accounted for this. She hadn’t accounted for how maddening it would be to have him behind her, to have his arms around her as he held the reins. Warmth pooled deep in her core, her face flushing despite the breeze, her heart beating like a drum against her ribs.

She had brought this upon herself, but how could she have known? She had never felt like this before. Even when Callum had kissed her, it had been different. The contact had been intense, much more so than this, but it had been brief both times. Now, it was a prolonged torture, one that seemed to have no end when all was said and done.

It was as if something was building inside her, a strange pressure that she needed to direct somewhere but didn’t know where. The path was long, forcing her to stay between Callum’s arms, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was feeling the same thing.

If he was, he was good at hiding it.

Rhea spent the rest of the ride in silence, and so did Callum, though that was hardly a surprise from him. She had come to find out that if he didn’t need to talk, then he wouldn’t. She had to be the one to initiate a conversation with him most of the time.

And yet now she found herself unable to say a single word, too busy thinking about this lingering, smoldering lust to come up with a neutral topic. Awkward as it was, she didn’t trust her voice. She didn’t trust herself not to say something foolish, either.

By the time they reached their destination, Rhea had almost been driven mad by the gentle brush of his arms against hers, by the heat of his chest against her back. She barely noticed when he brought her mare to a halt, but once he was off the saddle, the relief she felt was immediate.

Strangely, a sense of loss followed.

“We’re here,” Callum announced.

Rhea snapped herself back to the present, taking in her surroundings. They were in a clearing, and in the middle of it was a loch, its blue waters sparkling under the morning light.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the water. It was a mirror to the sky above, its surface calm and still. She slid off the saddle and approached the bank slowly as Callum tethered the horses to a nearby tree where they could graze.

“It’s so bonnie,” she said.

It was truly a stunning view, from the blue water to the tall, green, swaying trees that surrounded it; from the clear blue sky above to the weeds that grew around the bank, reaching for water.

“It is,” Callum agreed as he joined her by the water, staring off into the distance. “I thought ye may like it.”

“I do,” she assured him. She could hardly believe that he thought of this, let alone that he took her there.

Perhaps Lara had been right. Perhaps she was too harsh on him.

“Come.” He offered her his hand.

This time, Rhea took it, allowing him to lead her a little further down the bank, where the ground was firmer and less muddy. He seemed to know the place well. Likely he had spent plenty of time there.

Rhea couldn’t help but wonder if she was the first person he had brought there.

She couldn’t help but wish she was.

15

“Why did ye bring me here?”

They were sitting side by side on the bank, on Callum’s cloak, which he had laid out for them.

Rhea basked in the sun and breeze on her face, letting her eyes flutter shut, though a part of her wanted to keep looking at Callum forever. He seemed softer here in the golden light, more like his older self before the war, before the scars and the pain—which was to say he wasn’t exactly soft, as he had never been that. But there was a gentler, almost childlike air about him now, as if some of his burdens had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Do ye like it?” he asked instead of answering her.

“Of course I like it,” she said, opening her eyes once more to look at him. “It’s so bonnie here.”

“Aye, it is.” Even his voice was softer, losing some of its usual roughness.