Page 105 of My Brave Highlander

When she held out her hand, he took it into his large warm ones. She loved the way his strong fingers held hers so gently as if he was afraid he'd injure her.

"The bruise is fading and the swelling has gone down," he observed.

She nodded.

His piercing gaze returned to her face. "So… why are you crying?"

"I'm not now." She grinned slightly, trying to convince him she was fine. In truth, being with him did lift her mood.

"But you were."

She shook her head. "'Twas the ballad I was playing. It makes me think of… Never mind. I'm sure you think I'm silly."

"Nay. Of course not. I'm curious." Considering his rapt attention, he did appear interested.

"Well, when I was a girl, The Laird o' Logie was my favorite. My mother often had the musicians play it after supper. I thought one day the ballad would be played at my wedding feast. I led a sheltered life back then, and I actually believed my dreams would come true. Of course, they didn't."

He moved toward the window as if distracted by something outside. After a moment, he turned back to her but she was unable to decipher his expression.

"I told you it was silly," she said, her face heating.

"'Tis not silly to wish to be happy."

"I hope you're happy being the new chief."

He shrugged. "Being chief is not a matter of happiness for me, but a matter of duty and responsibility."

She understood those things all too well, and they were not usually pleasant, at least not in her case. "Still, I hope you will enjoy being chief. I think you're ideally suited for the position. You're wise and brave. You will be a great leader."

"I thank you. I'll do my best." The afternoon sunlight in the room ignited the vivid blue of his eyes like flame.

"'Tis clear to me you will not be a greedy laird. Instead, you will be one who protects his people."

He gave a brief nod. "I will try as best I can to emulate my father. He was a skilled and well-respected chief. The clan could not have been more loyal to him."

She nodded, remembering how she'd felt when she entered this bower. "I wanted to talk to you about what Maighread said. She lied. I didn't say you were disgusting and barbaric. In fact, the opposite is true. You are the most appealing man I've ever met. Though you are strong and tough, you are also compassionate and protective."

He wore a slight frown but said naught, appearing speechless for the moment.

"I hope you don't believe I'm manipulating you, like she said. If you wish me to leave, I will. I'm not trying to trap you into… anything."

"Nay, I blame myself," he muttered with a tortured expression. "A man should maintain control at all times, especially with a lady who is… inexperienced. Even if I'd known, I'm not sure I would've had enough reasoning ability to stop."

"Well… I didn't try to stop you either. A widow of five-and-twenty should not be a virgin. I know you barely remember it, but for me it was…" She shook her head. "I have no words to describe it. More exquisite and beautiful than anything I could've imagined."

He gave her a dark look, his lashes lowered. Abruptly, he turned. "I must go."

"What? Why?"

He exited and closed the door behind him. Damn the man anyway. Why had he done that? Why wouldn't he talk to her and explain himself?

∞∞∞

Dirk sucked in a deep breath of cool air in the corridor and headed toward the roof.

Exquisite and beautiful.

The way Isobel had described their lovemaking compelled him to pin her to the wall and take her again. Need and keen lust had shot through his body so swiftly, he'd near become dizzy with it. He had to find some restraint around her. If that meant not being around her, that's what he'd do.