Highland Warrior (Campbell Trilogy #1)(89)
“Then perhaps you can understand my reluctance.”
But it was clear she didn’t. “And you only decided to say something now because of Seamus’s disappearance.”
He nodded.
“I see.” She stood and moved to the fireplace, standing stiffly, staring into the smoldering embers of burning peat. Was she simply angry or trying to avoid his gaze?
He hated the suspicion coursing through him, but every bone in his body told him that she knew more than she was telling him.
She tensed as he moved closer to her. He cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. The baby soft skin was like plush velvet sliding under his fingertips. “Did you know, Caitrina?” he said softly. “Have you had word from any of your brothers?”
The pulse at her neck fluttered like the wings of a trapped bird. He could slide his thumb over it and stop it with one soft press. His fingers tightened.
Her breath caught in her throat—hesitating. Her chin quivered under his fingertips. “No,” she finally said. “I knew nothing of these rumors.”
Her denial fell like a cold slap across his cheek. The blue pools of her eyes were like a stormy sea, tossing with emotion and turmoil. If she was lying to him, and every instinct told him that she was, it was not done without guilt—small consolation for the betrayal. He’d thought she loved him. Fool.
Her eyes pleaded with him for understanding, even as the lie slipped from her lips. The plump red lips with their sensual curve that brought him such pleasure. Her hair was drying in the warmth of the room, and tiny soft curls had sprung up around her temples, grazing the pink curve of her cheek.
God, she was beautiful. And he wanted with a gut-wrenching intensity for her to be his. But for the first time, he wasn’t even tempted to take her into his arms and offer her comfort. She’d chosen to put her loyalty with her family and not with him. Perhaps he should have expected it. But what he hadn’t expected was the hollow burning pain in his chest. If it didn’t hurt so much, he might even be able to understand her divided loyalties. But it did. He couldn’t do this anymore.
He dropped his hand. Perhaps he’d been hoping for something that was impossible.
He clenched his jaw, hardening himself against the truth, and turned to leave.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
He gave her a long, measured look. “To find your clansmen.”
“What will happen to them?”
He heard the fear in her voice but was of no mind to offer assurances he wasn’t sure he could keep. “I don’t know.” Her brother’s future was just as uncertain as theirs.
Jamie had been gone for two days, and there was still no word from Niall. Caitrina had barely slept since he’d left. She kept playing over and over in her head the scene in their bedroom and knew that she’d made a mistake. She’d wanted desperately to confide in him, but her promise to her brother had smothered her instincts.
She should have trusted her heart.
The truth had been there for some time, but she’d been too scared to see it: She loved him. Loved his strength, his calm authority, his honor, the occasional glimpse of the carefree smile that he showed only to her, the tender way he held her in his arms and made love to her . . . and those not so tender times when he was wild with passion for her. She loved the way he challenged her to look beyond the surface. The way he accepted her for who she was.
She’d thought her heart was gone, buried with the scrap of plaid in the sand. But it had only been hidden behind a curtain of fear. Fear that loving meant losing. It seemed that she’d been hiding her whole life. First from what was going on around her and then from her own heart. But from the first, he’d never shirked from telling her the truth—no matter how harsh or unpleasant. His steadfastness, understanding, an indelible strength, gave her the courage to open her eyes and helped her to heal the wounds of the past.
She only wished she’d realized it before now. She needed to tell him her feelings. Needed to tell him how much she loved him before he discovered the truth. Had he believed her about not knowing where Niall was, or did he know she’d lied?
Early the morning of the third day, she heard the sound she’d been waiting for. The call went out. Riders were approaching.
She gazed out the window, unable to see anything in the heavy gray mist. The weather had worsened to match her sense of doom.
Her heart pounded and her hands shook as she tried to wrap her arisaidh around her. Giving up, she simply tossed it over her shoulders and raced down the stairs to the hall. The men were entering as she came in.
At the lead was a tall, broad-shouldered man in full battle gear. He walked toward her, but she knew who it was and rushed toward him. “Jamie, I’m sor—”
The apology caught in her throat as he pulled the steel knapscall off his head.
The blood drained from her face. It wasn’t Jamie.
It was his brother.
Chapter 20
Colin Campbell of Auchinbreck, the man responsible for the attack on Ascog and the deaths of her father and brother, was standing in the hall not five feet away from her as boldly as could be.
Revulsion tugged at the back of her throat, but it was quickly smothered by the flames of hatred. She remembered so clearly the last time she’d seen him: in her chamber during the attack, hurting Brian and leaving his man to rape her. He still wore the same cold, ruthless expression on his face that he’d had that hideous day.