The Hawk (Highland Guard #2)(59)

He shook his head. “I knew you were angry. I told you, I didn’t know they would show up.”

Last night Meg had packed a basket of food for Ellie to take to Hawk down at the camp. She’d just arrived when three other women arrived at the cave with the same idea.

“I wasn’t angry; I was happy to get back to my game with Thomas.”

Liar. After the day of fun they’d had exploring some of the caves south of the bay (where he’d mentioned this alleged underwater cave), she’d been unaccountably disappointed. And then something else entirely, when one of the women—a pretty, buxom blonde—had given him a long kiss in greeting. The fact that he hadn’t returned it didn’t matter. Neither had he pushed her away.

Ellie had gotten out of there as fast as she could. The hot lump in her chest was a harsh reminder that no matter how much fun she was having, it was only temporary. It was nothing special. She couldn’t lose sight of that.

How many times had she seen her mother try to hide her heartbreak when her father turned his eye on another woman? He can’t help it, her mother would say with false brightness. Look how handsome he is. The women love him.

Ellie might have captured the captain’s interest for now, but it wouldn’t last. She suspected it was the novelty of being refused that was driving him. He was a competitor, and she was a challenge. If she’d been smarter, she would have fallen all over him like every other woman did.

But part of her wondered whether she was giving him short shrift, and that maybe he felt the connection, too.

“You and the lad seem to have much in common,” he said.

“We do,” she agreed, wondering why his jaw looked so tight. Thomas and she shared many interests—chess, backgammon, poetry, falconry. She was convinced that he was a nobleman. But Thomas evaded her questions almost as skillfully as his captain did. “He doesn’t like it when you call him ‘lad.’ Thomas is a man full-grown.”

“Is that right?”

There was something steely in his voice that sent an excited shiver down her spine. He gave her a sideways glance before tossing another stone. When he winced, she jumped toward him with concern. “What’s wrong? Does it hurt?”

He flashed her a very unrepentant grin. “Nay, I just wanted to see if you cared.”

Ellie shook her head. He truly was incorrigible. But it didn’t bother her anymore. Not that she’d let him know it. “Do that again and you won’t be pretending.”

He just smiled, a tad too smugly for her liking. “Aren’t you curious about the surprise?”

“What use is there being curious when I know you won’t tell me no matter how many times I ask?”

“There are other ways of persuasion, Ellie.”

Something in his voice made her skin feel hot and her knees turn to jelly. This strange, crackling tension between them was getting harder and harder to resist. Standing here like this, close to him, it became nearly overwhelming.

He was tempting her with his eyes and seducing her with his nearness. It would be so easy to touch him. To lean over and press her hand up against that impossibly hard chest, the contours and planes of which she could recall so vividly in her mind, and feel his warmth radiating under her fingertips. She wanted to taste him again, to feel his mouth moving over hers.

Why shouldn’t she? He was obviously encouraging her. All the other women did.

But that was exactly the problem. She didn’t want to be everyone else, and with a man like him, that was all she could ever be. Yet at times, she wondered if--

She stopped herself. “If” was a dangerous question she could not afford to ask.

Why was she even thinking about it? Whether she wanted to be or not, she was betrothed.

Ignoring the invitation, she said, “When do you plan on showing me this surprise?”

“In a few hours.” He pointed up to the hazy sky, which for February had been remarkably clear of rain for the past few days. “It looks like it’s going to be a sunny day.”

He was right. And later, when she discovered what his surprise was, she was grateful for it.

She stood pressed up tightly against him—forgetting all about her intention not to touch him—gazing over the precipitous edge of a a twenty-foot cliff to the swirl of waves below.

“You can’t be serious. This is your surprise?”

He grinned, shaking his head. “The surprise is afterward, and I’m very serious.”

Despite the relative warmth of the day, she shivered. “It’s the middle of winter.”

“The cold water didn’t stop you before.”

She gave a sharp laugh, eyeing the deep-blue pool below. It was hard to believe Candlemas had been just nine days ago. “And look where that got me. Not to mention that it took me two days to feel warm again.”

He grinned. “It won’t take you that long this time. I promise.”

Something about the way he said it peaked her curiosity. She eyed him speculatively, but he just sat there with a knowing glint in his eye.

Irresistible, she thought. Almost.

“Come on, Ellie. You love swimming,” he said. How could he know that? “You must; you swim like a mermaid.”

Her cheeks heated. The compliment pleased her too much—especially coming from the best swimmer she’d ever seen.