Something dark flashed beneath Keegan’s stare, and Willow fought back the tremble that snaked up her spine. The airthickened with a tension that she could feel grating on her skin, and her heart roared in her ears as she stood her ground mere breaths away from where Laird Brahanne had rooted himself to the ground.
They both breathed in rugged strains as time paused. It had been only a moment, the stalemate rising in furious energy, and then Keegan’s lips came crashing down on hers.
Willow’s eyes shot wide as the force of his kiss nearly knocked her to the ground, and she would have fallen were it not for the firm grasp Keegan took hold of her waist, his arm wrapped about her.
What in the blazes…?
Her mind scrambled, and the ferocity that had accompanied their words fueled Keegan’s efforts. His tongue speared past the seam of her lips, claiming her, and he held her so tight against his chest that she wondered if she would see the bruises of his fingerprints come morning.
It was fiery and raw, so different than the caste embraces she’d seen from those at their handfasting or on their wedding day. This was not the restrained show put on for those in attendance or the stolen kiss from a pair yet in love after decades.Thiswas…everything.
Willow’s head swam as if drunk, and she couldn’t find her footing, something that was both literal and metaphorical. Keegan’s grasp held her aloft as the shock continued to lock upher muscles, and she stumbled mentally, trying to piece together what was happening.
He’s kissing me…my…first kiss. But this is…No, no, no.
Pushing herself roughly out of Keegan’s hold, Willow backpedaled several steps, her legs bumping into the edge of the bed as she stared at the man with her eyes so very wide.
Neither of them said a word, their breaths mirroring each other as they both struggled to compose themselves. It was quite the task, and Willow’s hand went to her chest, feeling the furious pounding of her heart beneath her palm.
Blinking, Keegan’s stare switched to the floor before snapping back to hers once more. Now, as he met Willow’s eyes, his glare was back in place, his jaw clenching again as he processed what had just transpired. He looked as enraged as ever, his hands squeezed into fists at his sides.
Willow was at a loss for what to say, the reality of her situation and the enormity of what Keegan had just done pressing down on her as if she lay beneath an ever-growing pile of boulders. Why had he done that? What was on the laird’s mind in regard to her captivity? Did he even truly wish to exchange her for his sister, or was that all a ploy?
She didn’t have the answers, and worse, Willow didn’t trust any that might have come from Keegan. She was frozen in a place of inaction and ignorance—a stranger in the land of the enemy.Whatever course her life had been meant to take had been irrefutably altered.
And Willow had the feeling that there was nothing in her power that would return her to where she’d been.
As she swallowed hard, still unwilling to speak, Keegan ducked his head, retreating into himself. Without a single word, he turned away from her and left Willow to the silence of her new room.
Me prison more like.
9
Keegan pounded his fist into the stone wall. He had made it a few paces down the hallway, far enough that his prisoner would not hear him, and turned to face the blue-gray expanse of stacked rocks. They screamed at him silently, demanding an answer for why he might betray the memory of his parents so gravely.
“Dammit. How could I—Ugh!”
Another assault on the stones sent vibrations rumbling up Keegan’s arm bones, the pain a dull but constant throb. It only worked a bit to distract him from the flames that licked through his veins. Willow was an infuriating creature, but one who proved to hold more significant sway over his actions than Keegan was comfortable with.
How could I lose control like that? Completely disregarding everything at stake just to feel that woman’s…Nay. This cannae happen again.
A steady ache claimed his fist and wrist, paired with the burn in his side from stretching his skin too much. Keegan had nearly forgotten about the blade injury. While it wasn’t terrible, he needed to be more cognizant of it—ofeverything, actually.
He needed something to distract him from the maddening storm of thoughts clogging up his mind, and he was required by his man-at-arms as well. It seemed the best course of action if he wanted to keep himself on track, focusing on what mattered most instead of the memory of Willow’s body against him.
Soft, pliant, velvety, sweet lips that tasted like summer wine…No, it wasnotwhere his mind belonged, and he wouldn’t allow himself to dwell on what had clearly been a mistake.
Proceeding down the hall back to the main floor, Keegan sought out Rodrick who was likely still within the Great Hall. It was a brisk walk through the corridors, each step a physical reminder of how the laird needed to distance himself from troublesome lassies. When he arrived at the hall, Rodrick was there as expected and rose to stand as Keegan approached.
“Me laird, thank ye for returnin'. I am at yer service. I ken we can create a suitable plan for the exchange of yer sister.”
Keegan could see the flicker of guilt that flashed over Rodrick’s face. He had attempted to keep it a bay, steeling his composure so that his own regret wouldn’t remind the laird of how he’d failed in preventing Melissa’s capture that day. The man had been seriously injured doing his best to protect her, however, and his loyalty had not been questioned.
Keegan nodded.
Rodrick was a good man, and it spoke well of him that the loss of Melissa pained him so. While the failure was serious, Keegan was not about to condemn the man for what had so obviously been a stagged ambush, the likes of which they could not have been prepared for.
“Aye, we can.” Keegan gestured at Rodrick’s shoulder with his head. “Ye look better. I trust me time away has served ye well.”