Chapter 13 #2
“Horrible,” he managed. He looked at her bleakly. “I don’t suppose you have anything tasty in that flask, Sunny, do you?”
She smiled and reached out to feel his forehead. “You know I don’t. But if you drink all this, maybe your mom will find you something sweet a little later.”
Ian nodded gamely. He drank as much tea as he was bidden, threw up once more, then sat back and stroked his chin in a gesture so reminiscent of his father, Sunny almost laughed.
“I might feel better,” he conceded.
“Give it another hour,” Sunny said, suppressing a smile. “If you still feel dodgy, drink the rest.” She looked at Elizabeth. “I left a bag of red raspberry leaf downstairs for you. If he can stay just on tea today, he’ll get over this faster.”
Elizabeth reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Thanks so much, Sunny. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“Oh, Patrick could just have easily come and done the same thing,” Sunny said deprecatingly.
Elizabeth snorted. “I love him to death, but he has no bedside manner. He would just tell Ian to take it like a man, then go downstairs and see what was in my fridge before he went home to decimate his own. We much prefer you.”
“I’m always happy to be useful,” Sunny said, feeling pleased. “I’ll check on Ian tomorrow.” She stood, then leaned over and ruffled Ian’s hair. “Drink your tea, lad.”
He nodded gratefully. Sunny exchanged another smile with Elizabeth, left the bedroom, then slowed when she remembered that her way home lay through the great hall below.
She supposed it wouldn’t be wise to just jump out the window and hope to land in a soft part of the garden.
She took a deep breath and made her way downstairs.
If Jamie was going to be doing business with Cameron, she was going to have to deal with seeing him.
Besides, she was probably just blowing the whole thing out of proportion.
She’d only known the man for two weeks. It wasn’t possible to fall in love with someone that quickly.
Was it?
She told herself it wasn’t and stopped at the bottom step to peer out into the great hall to see if someone she couldn’t possibly be in love with was still loitering there.
Jamie and Cameron were sitting at the lord’s table, looking over papers. She eyed the front door and started to sidle that way.
“Ah, Sunshine,” Jamie said loudly. “Come and give us your opinion.”
Damn, caught. She took a deep breath, then turned and pasted on her best false smile. She walked over to the table and hoped for nothing but a quick look, but apparently it was not to be. The moment she approached, Cameron stood up and held out his chair for her.
She couldn’t meet his eyes as she sat down.
If she’d had to look at him again and have him not see her, she would lose it.
She forced herself to listen to Jamie. He was talking, she thought, about the building they were putting together in the village and what it would mean to the villagers.
Activities for teenagers. Socializing for seniors.
A pool, workout facilities, a yoga studio for yoga classes.
He continued to talk, but she couldn’t hear him.
She couldn’t stop watching Cameron’s hands as they fiddled with a pen.
She had felt those hands on her face, in her hair, on her arms. He had held her close with them, kept her safe with them.
She could see, as he stretched out his left hand to reach for a piece of paper, the scar that went along the back of that hand and disappeared under his sleeve. It went, she was certain, almost up to his elbow. She knew that because she’d been the one to sew it up.
“Sunny?”
She dragged herself back to the present and looked at Jamie. “What?”
“The leisure centre, Sunshine,” Jamie said. “What do you think?”
She thought that if she had to sit next to the man she loved— and yes, it was possible to love someone in just over two weeks— she would simply throw back her head and howl. She shoved her chair back and stood up.
“Great,” she said. “Gotta go.”
She didn’t hear anything else he said to her. It was all noise, all confusion, all terrible pain that clutched her throat and wouldn’t let her go.
She bolted for the hall door, jerked it open, then slammed it shut behind her.
She ran all the way home.
She pushed her way into Moraig’s, then fell to her knees, gasping desperately for breath.
She finally had to stretch out on the floor.
The stone was cool against her cheek and that was helpful until she remembered that the last time she’d lain on her floor, she’d woken to find herself alone.
She couldn’t bring herself to move, though, so she lay there, weeping, until she realized that someone was knocking.
It was probably Zachary coming to find out if she’d really lost it or had just been pretending.
She managed to get to her feet, though she had a hard time staying there. She put her hand against the wall and leaned heavily against it as she struggled to get herself to the door.
She brushed away her tears. Putting on a good face would help her deflect any unwanted questions. She opened the door, then found that all her good intentions weren’t worth very much when faced with reality.
It was Cameron.
He was so desperately handsome, so terribly familiar, so completely and utterly remote, she started to cry again. He looked at her in surprise.
“Does your head pain you?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she croaked.
He frowned thoughtfully, but didn’t argue. Instead, he held her bag out toward her, then froze. He looked in surprise at the threshold, then pulled his hand back. It was less than steady. “You forgot your gear,” he said. He started to hand it to her again, but apparently couldn’t manage it.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He took a step backward. “There is something about your threshold . . . something that . . .” He started to speak again, then shook his head. He took a deep breath and held her bag out to her. “I thought you might need this.”
Of course. He wouldn’t have come to see her without a reason. She reached out and took her bag from him, then held it to her chest.
“Thank you,” she managed.
He hesitated. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
She closed her eyes. Yes, take me in your arms and never let me go.
But she’d tried that recently and the result hadn’t been very good.
“I’m tired,” she said. “I need to go lie down.”
“Of course—”
She shut the door in his face before he could say anything else, before she had to look at him any longer, before she started sobbing so loudly it frightened him. She turned and leaned back against the sturdy wood, then slipped down until she was sitting on the floor.
She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t run into him again. She simply could not bear one more time having him look at her as if she were just another woman in his way.
She reached up and locked her door, then crawled across the floor to her bed. She pulled Cameron’s plaids out from under her pillow, wrapped herself in them one after another, then lay down on top of her covers.
She closed her eyes and ignored the tears that burned her cheeks. All she had wanted was a reason to stay in Scotland.
What she had gotten was a reason to get out of it as quickly as possible.