Chapter Eleven #2
Gabriel rubbed his jaw with his hand and gave the slightest of smiles that made his dimples deepen.
She didn’t think she’d ever grow tired of looking at those sexy marks in his cheeks.
Then, he lowered his hand and traced the outline of her nose, her forehead, and then her lips.
“I suppose I’m at that point where I’m fearful to ask too many questions of it, Paige MacDonald.” His finger ran over her knuckles. “I’m too afraid I may blink and find you’ve suddenly gone.”
In the back of her mind, she’d thought of little else that day. Leaving. She didn’t want to. But she didn’t live in Scotland, after all. She wasn’t a citizen. Her job was in America.
Along with her lonely, boring, one-bedroom apartment life.
Besides. Gabriel didn’t own Gorloch, and while she had plenty of money saved to buy herself a place, she could only stay six months with a working visa.
Not that Gabriel Munro had asked her to stay. Sure, he’d said he didn’t want her to ever leave, but it wasn’t the same thing.
“Me thinks you are havin’ wicked thoughts runnin’ through that lovely head o’ yours, what with such a grumpy expression on your face.” He stroked the line of her jaw. “What are you thinkin’?”
Paige stared straight into Gabriel Munro’s mesmerizing green eyes. And lied.
“Nothing. I’m just taking everything in, I suppose.” She stifled a yawn. “I’m so comfortable here, I think I could fall asleep just listening to your accent.”
A deep chuckle sounded behind her. “Shall I say aye over and over then?”
Paige giggled. “Please. The more the merrier. And say something that has lots of r’s in it, too.”
Gabriel laughed, and then settled down to tell Paige tales of days gone by. Vivid stories of his youth, his wild warring days, of cattle raids and skirmishes with other clans, of his mother and father, and brothers.
Before long, Paige’s eyes began to drift closed.
Somehow, though, she still felt the pleasant tingling against her skin wherever Gabriel touched her. It calmed her, aroused her, and as she slipped into slumber, the thought of actually being physically touched by Gabriel Munro made her shiver.
Just before his deep, strangely medieval accent lulled her fast asleep.
Some time later, Paige’s eyes fluttered open. The light in the room told her that she’d slept through the night, and it was now morning. Christmas Eve day.
It had been forever since she’d felt such excitement.
Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and immediately searched for Gabriel. She found him perched on the windowsill, looking out. She ran a hand through her hair. “Good morning.”
For several seconds, Gabriel said nothing. He simply sat staring out into the morning mist. His back was rigid, his shoulders pulled back sharply. His fists were tightly clenched. In his profile, she saw his jaw was set.
And immediately, Paige felt something had changed. Something, and she’d not a clue what, had happened.
Fear made her stomach uneasy.
“Gabriel, is something wrong?” she asked hesitantly.
After several long, painful moments, he turned and looked her directly in the eye. His gaze was fixed and hard, and it made Paige’s throat tighten.
“You deceived me.”
Paige blinked, shocked. “Excuse me?”
“Your clan pin, Paige.” He inclined his head to her chest, where at some point during the night, her family heirloom had escaped her nightshirt and fallen out.
“You’re from the Gorloch Clan MacDonalds, Paige.
Silver sword, winged creature in the center, with an amber stone.
The verra same. The verra ones who murdered me!
” he yelled. He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes.
“I, I didn’t—” she began.
“It doesna matter,” he said quietly. He looked up. “You must leave. Now.” He pushed up from the sill and walked past her, his stare hard and full of disgust. “Pack your belongings, call a taxi, and go.”
With that, he disappeared through the wall.
Paige’s breath caught in her throat, and she moved to the window and stared out into the early morning. Tears burned her eyes, and she tried to breathe normally, but it just wouldn’t happen.
Resting her forehead gently against the cold glass, her thoughts consumed her. She’d not been responsible for his death. Never, ever would she have allowed it, had she been alive back then. She’d have done anything to save him.
She loved him.
Tears spilled over her lids and onto her hand. Slowly, she wiped them with her fingers, and wiped her eyes.
She hadn’t known Gabriel Munro for long, but in two things, she was positive: one, she loved him.
And two, once he made his mind up, there was no changing it.
She’d known how strongly he’d felt from the very beginning, about those MacDonalds.
She’d known she was from that same clan.
Her granny had told her tales. She’d known.
And yet she’d kept it from him, had been too scared to tell him what she knew. The truth.
Paige wiped her eyes again, for the tears now seemed to be a constant leak.
Gabriel was right. She had deceived him. And she’d now pay a severe price.
With a deep breath, she eased herself down from the west tower, changed, packed her few belongings, and called a taxi.
As the car pulled away, she turned in her seat to see Gorloch castle for the last time.
Just before the castle disappeared from view, she saw the figure of a mighty Highlander standing on the battlements.
It looked as though she was destined to spend yet another Christmas alone after all.
Paige silently cried until she reached Inverness.