The Kiss: An Anthology About Love and Other Close Encounters(9)

She opened her mouth to protest, but he was right. She shrugged. “Sorry, plaid. Who are you? Do you live around here?” The houses in that area were so far apart that a person could go months without seeing a neighbor. Perhaps that’s how she knew him.

“Nay.”


Without even looking, she felt his guileless look, and it held her. Despite her efforts to keep him at bay, he drew her to him. She couldn’t come up with her usual quips that put guys off. She felt lost. She didn’t like that sensation. “Why do I feel like I should know you?”

“Do you?”

Something in his searching look made her want to say yes. She puzzled over it then exhaled and shook her head. “That bump on the head did a number on me.”

He gave half a nod and stared into the darkness—but not before Mac saw his disappointment. She found herself wishing she hadn’t been the cause. A gust blew in some snow, and Mac shivered. In one motion, he slipped the end of his plaid over her shoulders. She stiffened and turned to defend herself, but his stern look cautioned her not to.

“Are you going to hurt me?” she asked.

“Hurt you?” He looked annoyed. “Lass, do you not think I’d have done it by now if I wanted to?” His anger faded as he saw the fear in her eyes. “Och, you wee fool. I told you that I wouldnae harm you, but I will keep you warm if you’ll let me.” He looked at her, arms suspended between embrace and retreat. With a nod, he lowered his arms. “Aye, well, I’ll not put you in fear. I’ll stay over here by the wall. Warm yourself by the fire. I give you my word, I’ll not trouble you.”

She eyed him as he put distance between them. She drew farther away, as close to the fire as she could get without snow falling on her. She needed to make her way home. He might fall asleep, and she could steal away into the darkness. With any luck, the snow would keep up long enough to cover her tracks. Her house wasn’t far down the road. If she could make it there, she could call someone for help.

But what would she tell them? A stranger pulled me from a wreck and warmed me by the fire, where he proceeded to not lay a hand on me? There must be a local ordinance against unsolicited gentlemanliness. Yeah… and those long, powerful legs ought to be outlawed. She’d had quite a good look at them. Under normal circumstances, she’d be wary of him for far different reasons. Men like him drew attention from everyone. Who would want a lifetime of being judged unworthy beside someone as good-looking as him? Whoa, Mac. You’re supposed to be planning your escape, not your marriage!

She glanced at him. True to his word, he hadn’t moved, nor was he even looking at her. The firelight caught his profile as he stared into the night. She studied him further. Hair dark as black coffee, full lips—probably soft and warm. Good grief, Mac. Get a grip. As though hearing her, he turned and made eye contact.

He said, “’Tis wise for you to be cautious. You dinnae ken me, so you’ve no reason to trust me. But I wish you’d not fear me. I’ve done naught to harm you.”

“So far.” She hugged her knees.

“Mac? Do you not ken me?” His expression was tinged with frustration. “I mean know.”

“I know what ken means.” His gaze troubled her. Unbidden sorrow haunted his eyes. Her heart ached as she whispered, “Please stop.”

He shook his head slightly. She might not have seen it had he not turned to the fire with clenched jaw.

Mac said, “Don’t look at me like that.”

He let out his breath and gave a casual shake of his head. “I’m sorry. The firelight must have played tricks with my eyes. For a moment, you looked like someone I once knew.” He smiled, but it was forced.

“Did she hurt you?”

“Hurt me? Och, no.”

“I’m sorry, I thought—”

“She would never have hurt me.” He stared at the snow.

“You loved her?”

“I love her still. I’ve risked everything to find her.”

“Oh. The way you talked, I thought she might have died.”

“Perhaps she did, in a way.” He glanced at her. “We were parted and lost one another.”

Mac nodded. A pang of longing took her by surprise. Such emotions could only distract her, along with the little things she was noticing—his strong jawline stubbled with a day’s growth of beard and those lips. Her eyes kept coming back to those lips. He turned toward her, and she lifted her eyes to meet his knowing look. He had noticed her studying him, and he did not object.

Doing her best to look neutral, Mac said, “So she lives around here?”

“Aye.” He hesitated, as though forming just the right words. “We met not far from here.”

“Oh?”

He looked away. “It has been a long time. I was daft to think we would be as we were.”

“So you’ve seen her already?”

“Aye.” He stared into the flames and smiled to himself. “It was not the right time. And what of you?”

She frowned. “Me?”

“Is there a man?”

She didn’t like that question and made a sharp turn to miss it. “I'm with a man right now—a very strange man.” She grinned.

With an answering grin, he said, “Aye, a strange man who found you shelter and then made a fire to warm you.”