Chapter 7
The temperature of the hut had improved, and Keegan groggily woke up to see that morning had come. He also quickly realized that Willow lay pressed against him. It had been a frigid evening, and he did not blame the woman for seeking out the warmth of another body. Still, having her so near him…
Willow’s scent bloomed in his nose as he sucked in a deep breath.
It was sweet and uniquely hers. The feel of her petite frame plastered against his front sent Keegan’s head spinning.
She’d turned to face him at some point during the night, and as if she belonged there, Willow was snuggled beneath his chin.
Her breathing was still slow and even, a sure sign that she still slept.
Who is this woman? She is nothing like her bastard of a brother. How does she make me—
But Keegan’s thoughts were forced to a halt.
The soft curves of Willow’s form were too close, too demanding, and his body was responding instinctively.
Everything about her called to that dark part inside him, and he recalled the way she’d touched his skin, how her fingers had felt on his bare flesh.
His body was painfully awake, and Keegan’s thoughts turned sinful. It was no surprise that he was greeted as such come morning, but this was the first that he’d been in a position to employ that reaction to his benefit.
Still, he couldn’t. Willow was the sister of his enemy, and despite how much she affected him—how badly he wished to see beneath the layers of her clothing—Keegan knew sleeping with the lass was a terrible idea.
The light reaching inside the hut was still quite pale, however, and Willow was still soundly asleep. It would be no great task to slip free of her and steal a moment for himself to relieve the tension.
Keegan moved painstakingly slowly, rolling away from Willow and putting distance between them.
The cold filtered in slightly as he allowed the blanket to fall between them, but it was nothing for the fire in his veins.
His mind conjured up images of Willow on her back beneath him, and he was achingly aroused.
His hand went to the front of his plaid.
No. Ye cannae do that here, not now.
Keegan pinched his eyes closed, balling his hands into fists as he reminded himself what this entire situation was about. Melissa. He would not betray her like that, stealing a moment of pleasure while she sat locked up in a cell somewhere in McCallum’s castle.
Moreover, nothing good could come from allowing himself to indulge these thoughts of Willow. She was his prisoner. Nothing more, and Keegan needed to keep that fact at the forefront of his mind.
With a frustrated sigh, he quickly left the warmth of the hut and stepped outside into the cool morning air. He hoped that it might clear his head—and diminish his current state of excitement.
Och, think of yer sister, Keegan. Think of the pain in yer side from being attacked by the woman’s damned guard. Think of how infuriating she is.
While it took much longer than he cared to admit to push the images and fantasies from his mind, eventually, he was confident that he could return to the hut to wake Willow.
They were very near the castle, and they needed to get back as soon as they could.
There was still so much to do to ensure the exchange went smoothly, and he nodded to himself.
“Aye. Ye’ll nae be distracted again. Ye will plan the exchange and rid yerself of the troublesome lass.”
As Keegan stepped around the side of the shepherd’s hut toward the entrance, he moved with greater speed and purpose.
It was because of this that he didn’t see Willow coming straight for the opening at the same moment.
Just as he looked up from the ground—his mind still caught up in a spiral—he met eyes with Willow only seconds before they crashed into each other.
They tumbled to the ground, Keegan landing squarely on top of Willow.
She yelped as they fell, and for a moment, the two of them just lay there, trying to take in what had happened.
Soon enough, however, she squirmed beneath him, and Keegan found himself thrust right back into the predicament of this morning.
“Get off me,” Willow complained, her hips bucking and swishing from side to side as she attempted to dislodge him.
She knocked into his tadger with enough force to make him grunt, and Keegan let out a low grumble before yanking himself away from her and struggling to his feet.
Glaring at him like he wasn’t the one who’d just been smacked where no man ought to be, Willow pulled down on her shawl as she stood up.
“What on earth were ye doin'? I had half a mind to think ye’d abandoned me out here.”
Keegan ground his teeth, turning away from Willow to express his discomfort for a moment and mumbling, “Daenae give me ideas, lass.”
“What was that?”
Shaking his head, Keegan didn’t bother to look back over his shoulder at her, trusting that Willow would follow along behind him as he made his way to the horse.
“We need to be headin' out. The castle isnae far from here, and I’d prefer it if we arrived sooner as opposed to later.”
The woman was actually silent at that, not looking him in the eye as she walked up to the horse and pulled herself up into the saddle. For a brief moment, her arse was directly in his face, and yet again, Keegan was wishing that it hadn’t been so long since he tended to things.
“Are ye just goin' to stand there? I thought there was a castle to be gettin' to.”
Keegan breathed, just breathed. It took a feat of strength he wasn’t sure he could manage to keep himself from bending the woman over his knee.
Pinching his eyes closed for just a moment, the laird steeled himself and hopped aboard his horse.
Thankfully, the only items he would be leaving behind in the hut were a pot and a cloth.
Because there was no way in hell that he was getting down to fetch them.
Closing in on Castle Brahanne was quite possibly the bonniest sight Keegan had had in days. The massive, proud structure sat against the horizon like a welcome beacon, and a thread of the tension that had stitched its way through him loosened.
“It’s gorgeous. The grounds and the courtyard…they’re so well cared for.”
Willow’s voice was soft as they rode closer, and a swell of pride touched Keegan’s chest. He had been raised by his parents to believe that a castle was a fortress, but it was also a home, and it served both him and his people to treat it as such.
“Wait till ye see the inside, lass.”
He could not keep the smile from his face, and Keegan hurried the horse onward so that they would reach his home all the faster. People bustled around in the center beyond the walls, trades and tasks being carried out as promptly as ever, even though he’d been absent these past few days.
Pulling the horse up to a stall at the stables just within the wall, Keegan dismounted and then quickly helped Willow to the ground.
While he didn’t intend on mistreating the woman, he was careful to avoid looking overly kind.
This was the enemy, after all, and he wanted to be sure that all of Brahanne Castle understood that.
“Keep up, McCallum,” Keegan ordered, directing Willow toward the main entrance.
It didn’t take them long to reach the massive double doors that stood at the front of the castle, and Keegan pushed them open with two hands as he entered, heading directly toward the Great Hall. He heard Willow’s hurried steps behind him, but Keegan would not allow himself to turn around just yet.
Inside the large stone room, the laird noticed happily that all of his men had arrived safely since their parting ways. Damon stood at the far end of the room with his group of most trusted warriors, and Keegan strode toward him, raising an arm to clasp with his brother as soon as he was close.
“Och, ye’ve finally made it back. I will admit ye had me a bit worried, Brother.”
Keegan shook his head. “A slight problem the first evenin', but nae a thing I couldnae handle.”
“It is good to have ye back, me laird. I’ve been checkin' in with our scouts regularly. Still nay such word about yer sister, I’m afraid.”
He swallowed hard at Rodrick’s words, both because it wasn’t good news to hear that his men still hadn’t found anything out about Melissa and because he distinctly noticed his title spilling from the man’s lips. The cat was certainly out of the bag now.
Finally turning to regard his prisoner, Keegan watched Willow rake her stare across the whole of the Great Hall, looking for someone else that Rodrick might be speaking to. He sucked a deep breath, turning back to his man-at-arms—the actual person who held that title—and nodded at him.
“Understood, Rodrick. Please keep to it. I want any word of Melissa’s status to be delivered directly to me or Damon.”
“Ye unbelievable—”
But Willow’s mutterings cut short as she remembered herself, and Keegan glanced back at her over his shoulder just long enough to make out the infuriated expression she wore, her skin flushing bright pink.
“There is still much to discuss, me laird. I would verra much like to have yer ear for a moment.”
Smiling easily at Rodrick, Keegan nodded but held up a hand. “Of course. I will see our ‘guest’ to her chambers at once, however. I shall find ye afterward. Damon, please be sure that the men are tended to.”
“Brother,” Damon offered with a nod.
“Of course,” Rodrick bowed his head, clapping his hand on Keegan’s shoulder, “me laird. It is good to have ye home.”
“Thank ye, Rodrick.”
With that, Keegan turned on his heel, heading out of the Great Hall toward the staircase that led to his room. There were several unoccupied chambers near there, and he was keen on having Willow within earshot.
“Right this way, me lady. We’ll have ye set up for yer stay within Castle Brahanne shortly.”
Willow glared daggers at him as he escorted her down the long hallways of the castle, their steps echoing off the stones.
It wasn’t far past first light, but with the way this day was going, Keegan was quite ready for it to be over at once, especially as it meant spending the night back within the comfort of his bed chambers.
Away from Willow Flanagan.