Page 33 of Highland Seduction

“It pleases me,” he said loudly to the men so they might hear him, “no’ to sleep among the stars when yer fine town is just on the other side of that gate.”

No response.

“Ale for the eve in River’s End Inn, if ye’ll join me.”

The two men stopped. “Wall duty, us both.”

An easy enough problem to navigate. “Tomorrow eve, then. And the tale of a reiver attack as well as news from the north.”

The guards exchanged a glance, one shrugged, and a moment later, the gates opened. By then Tor had remounted, and as they rode through he yelled to the guards, “Ask for Tor MacRob. Good eve, sirs.”

The guards stared at him as if they’d seen a ghost. MacRob was a name that could have seen immediate entry, despite the fact that the sun had fallen and, like most towns, the gates closed for the eve.

“Why did ye no’ simply tell them yer name?” Ainsley asked, echoing his thoughts. “Surely they’d have done as ye bid sooner.”

“We need allies here, to find Marta and Ian. To gain an audience with the bishop. It would no’ do to make enemies instead before we’ve even entered the town. Using my clan’s connection may have gained us entry but would no’ have endeared us to them.”

A simple explanation, but one that seemed to impress his wife. She appeared thoughtful, her smile an indication, he hoped, his actions pleased her. When, precisely, he went from disliking Ainsley Shaw to wishing to please her, Tor could not be certain. He knew only that, as they rode through the streets, he looked forward to the remainder of this eve more now than ever.

Suddenly, without warning, Ainsley dismounted. Directly in the street. He could not see what was happening at first, until she leaned down to pick something up from below her. When she turned, he could see what she held.

A kitten, all shades of brown with one white spot next to its nose. It cried, likely from hunger. She looked up at him, her expression clear.

“Nay,” he said. “We can no’. The inn will forbid it.”

Ainsley was not moved by such a sentiment. “’Tis no’ an agent of the devil but a simple creature in need of nourishment.”

Tor agreed with her and scoffed at the idea of the cat as a symbol of darkness and evil, but not all would agree with them. He was about to tell her so when Ainsley looked down to the wee furry ball in her hands with such adoration that Tor’s words became stuck in his throat.

She looked back up at him.

“Pardon me,” a merchant called, his wagon barely able to navigate by them. The street was filled with travelers attempting to find bed and board for the eve. With merchants and maids, warriors, and even a party of English knights, they’d best move from the street.

“Give him here,” Tor said.

Her smile was his reward. “He, or perhaps she?”

When he leaned down to take the kitten, Ainsley’s hand touched his and, by her expression, she felt much the same as he did about the contact. She pulled away, and he held the kitten tightly against his chest lest he get away.

“If ’twas a girl, she’d have known better than to stop in the street.”

Ainsley laughed at his jest and quickly remounted. A soft cry was not necessary to remind him of the kitten’s presence. His claws in Tor’s hand did that just as well. As they rode toward River’s End, he glanced down. Two bright blue eyes stared back at him.

Cute. But with claws, lest he forget she was fierce too.

Tor changed his mind. ’Twas a girl, indeed. And now he’d been entranced twice in as many days.

Chapter 19

When he walked into the room, Ainsley nearly ducked underneath the water, forgetting he had a key. After a quick meal below, she’d entered the room knowing Tor had been planning something. He’d disappeared for a bit as they ate, and when she spied the tub filled with hot water, she knew precisely the reason.

Brushing aside her questions about how much coin he’d parted with for the bath, he bid her to lock the door behind her. He seemed as eager to leave her as he had been to discuss that kiss. The one Ainsley had been wholly unprepared for. She’d expected it to be pleasant. Enjoyable, even. But that?

She could think of naught else now except when he might do it again. Today, when they’d stopped to water the horses, Tor stood so close to her she could have touched him had she reached out. Which she nearly did, but then he walked away. Which was likely for the best.

“I didnae expect ye to still be in the bath,” he said, hesitating but then locking the door behind him.

She dipped lower, ensuring naught could be seen. She’d slept in his arms twice, but this felt . . . different. Much more intimate. Tor, thankfully, sat on the bed. From his vantage point, Ainsley did not think he could see much of her.