Oh, God. I have truly…How could I have…
Still, Keegan was hardly done surprising her, a fact she believed that she might see for the remainder of their time together. As gently, assweetly, as the laird had kissed away her tears, Keegan slid his tongue down the length of his fingers. Willow gaped in utter disbelief, and that odd stirring sensation in her blood called out once more.
Something about that is…alluring.
“Ye need nae worry over me, lass,” Keegan drawled, smiling as he hooked his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “It will take a lot more than the surprise tactics of yer brother to end me. Ye forget…”
Willow waited on edge for his response, still at a loss for what had happened between them and if she regretted it or not.
“I have dealt with Magnus before.” Keegan hovered his lips over hers, the ghost of his touch making them tingle. “A man like him could never be the death of me.”
Keegan’s lips met Willow’s once more, and she could taste the result of their passion on his tongue. It was a thrilling yet terrifying experience, and she was as bewildered as a lad pished on his first cup of ale.
“Ye will be returnin' to yer room for the evenin', Willow. When the day of the exchange arrives, ye will see for yerself the strength of Clan Brahanne.”
With a final rough and claiming kiss, Keegan stole himself from her and walked to the door. He pulled it open in a hurry, pushing through and leaving Willow to stand there awestruck.
After a moment or two, Rodrick entered the study. He stopped just inside the door and bowed his head toward her. Willow remained frozen in place against the shelves.
“Would ye follow me, me lady? It is time to be getting ye back to yer room.”
Willow nodded, unspeaking, and then approached Rodrick as if she were already asleep on her feet. He gestured out the door,and Willow stepped through, following the familiar route to her borrowed chambers.
As she walked down the stone hallway, Willow was quite sure that an easy rest would not be coming for her that night—and that she required a bath.
Perhaps two.
16
The day of the exchange had arrived, and Keegan’s mind was too far from the field where they stood.
Dammit, ye bastard. Ye mustn’t think on the lass. Nae now.
Still, he had been at war with himself for the past handful of days now, and it had done him precisely no good. Willow had infected his thoughts with a magic that would not be ignored. He dreamed of touching her,tastingher, and his entire being called out for more—so much more.
A crisp wind rushed past his face, and Keegan shook himself. He needed to focus. There was so much at stake—more than even he cared to admit even to himself—and his mind was required on the moments ahead, nothing else.
Keegan called on the training he’d put himself through, the years of hones skills, and filled himself with an awareness of the here and now, nothing beyond the present moment.
Ye have prepared for this. Remain steadfast.
The preparations he’d made bolstered the laird’s resolve. He had done everything he could think of to create the best environment for a successful outcome. They were here at the open field as he’d suggested, and his men stood behind him with Magnus’s forces across the vast expanse between them.
They had marched into place only moments ago, and from the crowd, Keegan attempted to pick out his sister. Scanning over the bodies took several moments, but a sigh of exquisite relief overtook him as he saw her there, positioned to the rear and left of Magnus.
“She’s there, Brother. We can finally be done with all this.”
Damon’s mood had been as sour as ever, and were it not for a thought that he would not acknowledge, Keegan would be as excited about this exchange as his brother was.
“Aye,” Keegan replied, then called out over his shoulder so that only his men would hear. “Keep yer heads, men. I have informed ye of McCallum’s fondness for tricks.”
“Aye!” They asserted, and Keegan’s stare errantly went to the woman standing in the middle of Rodrick and Damon.
Willow was just there, and she looked over the field as if she were expecting the worst. There was no mistaking the furrow to her brow, and he swallowed hard. Her stare found him in thatmoment, and the two of them stood there, locked in that space for an unknown stretch of time.
A gnawing ache claimed Keegan’s chest and stomach as he held Willow’s eyes. He could not explain it, but the apprehensive, yearning gaze he knew he wore—if subtly—was reflected in her own.
Ye must give her back, Keegan. Ye must give her back.