Chapter 16
“Is this truly how the night ends?” Violet said aloud to no one in particular as she tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep.
It was late into the night already. The party had raged on until she decided her feet couldn’t handle any more dancing. She had danced two dances with Ruaridh before the exhaustion of her previous dances with Keira and Callum caught up with her.
Ruaridh had been gracious, leading her to one of the benches and going to fetch her a drink. Remembering how he had held her waist and danced with her had her heart racing, and she giggled into her pillow, remembering how his smile had transformed his face.
He was a truly handsome man, but his smile had made him beautiful, and to think she had been the reason for it made her giggle again.
The night had been thoroughly unexpected in the bliss it offered her. Perhaps it was because for the first time ever, she found herself feeling light and unburdened by worry for her future. In fact, she looked forward to the next day.
She found herself feeling grateful for the turn her life had taken. If Ruaridh had never taken her from the chapel, perhaps she would be married to Lord Westall and miserable.
He was indeed an answer to her prayer. A most unusual answer, but a very handsome one.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, bolting upright.
She rushed to her desk and pulled out her list, and quickly crossed off Dance with a handsome man.
She bit her lip as she thought of how he had possessively pulled her against his side.
He had been hard against her, and the heat of his palm against her waist had seared her skin.
Even now, she could still feel the imprint of his palm against her flesh.
She pulled her lip between her teeth.
He had offered to escort her to her chambers, but she had waved him off, not trusting herself. She had wanted to kiss him while they had danced. If they had been alone, she wouldn’t have been able to trust herself.
A knock sounded at her door, drawing her out of her thoughts. She stood, wondering if perhaps Keira had come wanting to sleep over again, but when she opened the door, she couldn’t hide her surprise.
It was as though her thoughts had summoned him to her door because Ruaridh stood there, looking ruggedly handsome, with his previously slicked-back hair unruly and damp as if he had taken a bath or perhaps a dip in the loch.
His linen shirt lay open at the collar, revealing a dusting of dark hair on his chest. Her mouth went dry at the sight, but she forced her gaze back to his face.
“Good evening, my Laird,” she greeted.
“Good evenin’, Violet,” he rumbled. “Did I wake ye?”
“Not at all,” she answered, shaking her head. “I couldn’t fall asleep.”
“Me neither.”
His admission made her go still.
What made him seek her?
“May I come in?” he asked.
Everything in her warned her against letting him in, but she had wanted to see him, and this short moment with him was not enough.
So shutting out the voice of reason, she nodded and stepped back, allowing him in.
His presence seemed to fill the room, and the once-wide chamber suddenly felt too small. He shut the door behind him, and immediately her heart began to race. Tension, thick as butter, filled the room. The air was dangerously charged, and neither of them moved.
He looked down at her, his eyes darkening. She looked down and realized she was only in her nightgown and not one of the more proper ones. This was made of a lighter fabric that did little to hide her body from his gaze.
Violet knew she should have moved to pick up her robe and cover herself, but she liked feeling his gaze on her. Liked seeing the desire in his eyes. His eyes left trails of heat as he scanned her from her neck, where the fabric gaped, to her feet, where her toes peeked out.
“Why have you come, my Laird?” she asked, breaking the silence.
He cleared his throat and met her eyes. “I wanted to see if ye had settled in and to ask if the evening was to yer liking.”
“Is that truly all?” she asked.
Surely he wouldn’t have come all this way just to see if she had enjoyed the evening. He could have waited till the morning meal.
He looked around her room until he spotted her desk, and she realized vaguely that she had forgotten to replace the list in the bottom drawer.
“May I?” he asked.
She should stop him, but she wanted him to see it. She was grateful she had added a few more items to the list in the morning, so he wouldn’t know that they had almost completed it.
She nodded, and he moved, picking up the paper. She waited with bated breath as he scanned the list, and when he neared the middle, his eyes narrowed.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he answered, placing it down.
The frown still hadn’t left his face, and she wondered if he was upset because they weren’t done yet.
“Has something on the list upset you?” she asked.
“Nay,” he answered.
“I find that hard to believe when you’re frowning as hard as you are right now,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “Are you perhaps upset we aren’t finished yet?”
“Nay,” he uttered.
The stoic look she usually found endearing annoyed her this evening for a reason she couldn’t name. He wasn’t being as honest as he usually was, and it infuriated her.
“Then why have you come to my chambers so late?” she pressed, exasperated. “You certainly didn’t just come to see if I was settled. If that was the case, then you can leave now. I was having a pleasant evening until you decided to play these games with me.”
She usually wasn’t this brash with him, but she had thought he had perhaps felt the change she had in their interactions earlier. Alas, it seemed she had been deluding herself.
Shame made her eyes sting with tears she refused to shed in front of him. She turned away from him.
“You can leave now, my Laird. I want to get some rest and—”
“Ye’re the source of me frustration!” he snapped, and she stumbled back.
“I beg your pardon?” she sputtered. “What have I done?”
“Tell me, Violet. When ye crossed Dance with someone handsome off yer list, were ye thinking of Callum?” he asked, stepping closer. “Or were ye thinking of me?”
Violet found herself unable to speak because of the way her breath hitched in her throat.
Was that what had made him so angry with her?
She hadn’t thought he would be so offended by her dancing with Callum. Had it truly bothered him to see her in another man’s arms?
She was tempted to annoy him by saying she had been thinking of Callum, but the fact that he had asked told her it was a delicate subject for him, and if she were to joke when he was feeling vulnerable, she might break something in their relationship.
But if she were to be honest, she would be admitting she had feelings for him, and that would be an even graver admission than her mere attempt at teasing him.
It would change everything.
“Is that really important?” She laughed softly in a bid to lighten the mood. “I thought you would be glad my list is nearly complete.”
He stepped closer, eyes flashing.
“Answer me, Violet.” His voice was firm yet silky as sin.
There was a sultriness to his tone that made her want to divulge all her secrets to him, but pride wouldn’t let her submit so easily.
“I do not think it matters who helps me complete the list or not, my Laird. What is important is—”
“Ye’re me bride,” he said sharply. “Mine and nay one else’s. As such, ‘tis me responsibility to help ye complete yer list.”
Responsibility.
How she had come to hate that word since he insisted on making all their dealings about taking responsibility.
“Why must it always be about duty and responsibility to you?” she huffed, exasperated. “It frustrates me endlessly how you choose to treat me like I’m only another responsibility to you.”
“And how would ye have me treat ye, Violet?” he asked, his eyes hardening.
“Like a woman!” she exclaimed. “A person. Not a chore to tick off your list.”
Her words shocked her and him, it seemed. She hadn’t meant to be so honest, and the urge to lower her head rose quick and hard. Instead, she met his surprised gaze with her angry one.
“I daenae think ye would like to see me without these boundaries, Violet,” he said.
“Why?”
He stepped even closer then, and her heart began to thud, loud enough that she feared he could hear it.
His rich masculine scent filled her nostrils, forcing her to breathe him in, and the heady warmth of his broad chest called to her. He was always so warm that she found herself unconsciously leaning into him.
Even now, he didn’t touch her or make any move, yet every part of her ached with the need to feel his hands on her, to feel his lips against hers.
What was it about this infuriating man that had her panting with the need to be touched every time she was in his vicinity?
“Because, Violet,” he answered, “ye will probably run from me.”
“Why don’t you let me decide for myself?” she shot back.
She knew she was pushing him again, and soon he would growl, infuriated, but when his lips stretched into a wolfish grin, she found herself perturbed.
“Answer me question first, Violet,” he insisted.
“Which one?”
He growled low, taking one more step, and now there was scarcely any space between them.
She forced herself to swallow past the lump in her throat, but she didn’t look away from him. Didn’t dare to show any sign of weakness.
“When ye crossed the item off yer list,” he repeated, “were ye thinkin’ of me or Callum?”
She contemplated feigning ignorance again, but she was tired of the push and pull between them. Tired of ignoring how much she wanted him in this moment.
“I was thinking about you,” she admitted breathlessly.
His lips claimed hers then, and there was naught to do but give in to the sweet sensation of finally getting what she had wanted since she had first seen him that evening.