Page 34 of Highland Ruse

“They’re all dead.” Kaid’s voice was thick and rasping in his throat, but the words were unmistakable. “They’re all dead.”

The phrase chilled through her. It was the same one he’d said when he had the nightmare.

Perhaps this might be part of why he had abducted them. He had refused to give her a sufficient answer, and his rage at Donnan’s tale of the deaths, all of it seemed too coincidental. Regardless of the awfulness of the crime Kaid had committed, she refused to believe in her heart that he’d done it purely for selfish reasons.

This might not be about coin at all, or anything so tangible. It had to be about something bigger than her, bigger than him, bigger even than the risk of getting caught.

This was the reason they’d been abducted. She didn’t know why specifically, but she knew with great certainty it was.

She did know something in the valerian root was causing him to give into the torture of his own mind. While she didn’t have the same knowledge of herbs and healing as Percy, she knew well the best way to be free of something was to purge it from your system.

Delilah held the flask to Kaid’s lips and tipped water into his mouth until he swallowed. The more he drank, the more he would need to purge.

Sure enough, within a few minutes, the water came back up, and she repeated the process.

She would ensure he came out of this, and she would not leave his side until he was recovered.

• • •

Kaid woke to darkness.

No, not darkness. Stars winked overhead, countless dots of white against the velvet of a midnight sky. The gentle lapping of water broke into his awareness, as did the awareness of someone lying close to him and the subtle weight of a hand on his chest.

He lowered his gaze and found Elizabeth curled against him, her arm slung over him with the easy comfort of a lover.

The warmth of her body seemed to burn against him, and the delicate scent of her floral perfume held him like an embrace.

He didn’t know how she’d come to lie so intimately against him, but he was grateful. Part of him wanted to touch her, to stroke her hair, to brush his fingers over her cheek which he knew to be impossibly soft, to pull her against him and revel in her closeness.

But a wary part of him worried touching her would break a fragile spell and replace the relaxed beauty at his side with the spoiled noblewoman.

It was more than just Elizabeth, though. He was more aware of everything. The sigh of the wind against his cheeks, the blaze of the fire against his back, the delicate slosh of waves from the loch, even the burning hunger in his empty stomach—everything was sharper. As if the fog in his mind had lifted.

He lay there for a while, giving in to the quiet of his body, and reveling in the world of feeling more than he’d felt in far too long.

Elizabeth shifted at his side and sat up. Their shared heat immediately chilled. While the night was not a cold one by any means, he missed the warmth of her against him.

Her eyes settled on him, and she gave him the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. It was filled with a tender kindness and affection—and meant only for him.

“You’re awake,” she said.

He tried to prop himself on his arm to look at her, but his muscles felt liquid with weakness. Elizabeth put a hand on his shoulder and eased him back. “Don’t sit up yet. You’ve been several days without food.”

The clarity he’d experienced only moments ago faded and left him disoriented.

How had he not eaten for several days?

“You’ve been very ill,” she offered in explanation. Her touch lingered on his shoulder, comforting.

“We all were.” The words burned as they rasped from his throat.

Elizabeth drew her hand from him and lifted a bag of food. “We all recovered quickly. I think you—” Her lips pursed, and she stopped herself. “Here.” She held out a chunk of bread. “It will help you feel better.”

He took it from her. “Ye think I what?”

Her gaze slipped away, and he knew something was wrong.

Elizabeth seldom turned her gaze from anyone.