Chapter 13 #2
“Looks like rain,” he said shortly. “Generally, I’d have me men train in the rain regardless, but wee Willow here doesnae need to prove herself. We should go inside.”
“We should play chase!” Willow cried, her eyes huge. “Oh, Ma, please let’s play chase!”
Daphne’s skin prickled. She could feel Hunter’s eyes on her, cool and almost amused.
“Ye want me to chase ye?” he murmured. The question was clearly meant for her, not Willow.
The little girl, visibly excited, began to run around in circles, chanting, chase, chase, chase over and over under her breath.
Hunter dragged his gaze away from Daphne, following Willow with a grin. “Does she ever run out of energy?” he whispered.
“Never,” Daphne responded, breathless.
“Are we going to play?” Willow demanded, skidding to a halt.
Hunter held out his arms. “Yer wish is me command. I’ll give ye a thirty-second head start, aye?”
Willow gave a shriek of delight and set off at full speed back toward the keep, elbows pumping.
Daphne hesitated. Was it undignified to run after her? What if the game was just for her and Hunter? What if—
Warm, strong hands curled around her upper arms. Her heart stopped in her chest, just for a second, and then began to hammer again. She felt the warmth of his body as he leaned closer to her.
Aside from his hands on her arms, she couldn’t feel the press of his body anywhere else, not even the brush of his firm chest against her back.
To her horror, she found that she wanted to lean back into his solid warmth, to lean her head back against his shoulder and close her eyes.
I thought ye would have outgrown that by now, lass!
The dreams came back, all of her silly imaginings where Hunter climbed in through her window with a wide, vulpine grin, his strong arms ready to carry her away to safety.
She’d never really believed he was coming for her, not even when she realized she was pregnant. Not even after Willow’s birth. Why would he? He didn’t know about the baby, didn’t know where she was.
And yet the dreams had never quite gone.
And now I’m here. He came. He came, and he brought me back.
With a jolt, she opened her eyes (when had she closed them?) and blinked up at the keep. Countless windows peered down at them, like eyes watching. There could be eyes watching. There could be a person at every window, and she wouldn’t be able to see them.
Despite knowing full well that it was a bad idea—terrible, in fact—she twisted around, trying to look behind her to meet Hunter’s eyes.
“Go on, then,” he whispered, his eyes dark. “Run.”
Oh, I daenae want to run. Nae ever.
He released her arms, but the ghost of his touch lingered.
“One,” he breathed. “Two. Three…”
She swallowed dryly, since all moisture had apparently left her mouth, and bolted away. Her skirts tangled around her ankles, threatening to trip her, until she finally gave up and yanked them up high, out of her way, and began to run properly.
Her lungs began to burn at once. When was the last time she’d run? There wasn’t much opportunity for running back at Lady Pilbury’s estate.
In her head, the countdown continued.
Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine…
The keep suddenly seemed very far away. Why was her heart beating so fast? Why was she running as hard as she could? It was just a game.
What happens when he catches me?
A familiar knot of desire tightened in her gut, enough to make her choke on air. One of her calves briefly cramped, forcing her to hop along for a moment or two.
At least nobody’s around to see me make a fool of meself.
Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen.
Or was it twenty? Had she lost count?
Twenty-one. Twenty-two.
The shadow of the keep was only about fifty feet away. Was that safety, or did she need to go a little further?
Willow had reached the shadow already and was yelling something, jumping up and down in triumph.
It must be thirty now, but Daphne had had a good head start. No footsteps thumped behind her. No—
An arm curled around her waist, jerking her back.
“Caught you,” Hunter intoned, his warm breath tickling her ear.
Heat tightened in her chest, and she gasped in surprise, unable to hold back.
At once he released her, taking several large steps back. When she glanced over at him, he was cool-faced, not even sweating. In contrast, she was heaving great gulps of air, sweat beading along her hairline.
“Ye lost, Mama, ye lost!” Willow cried, skipping over. “You werenae very fast.”
“I havenae run for a while,” Daphne panted.
She pointedly didn’t look at Hunter, even though she knew he was looking at her.
“Look, River is here!” Willow held up a mess of red fox fur.
The little creature blinked at them, mildly curious.
“Ye had better take yerselves off, then,” Hunter remarked, taking a step forward and touching the middle of River’s forehead, stroking it with his forefinger. The little fox closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. “I have work to do. I will see ye both later, aye?”
“Thank ye, Laird MacCrimmon, for playing with me!” Willow chirped.
Daphne cleared her throat. “And thank him for yer gift.”
Willow dived forward, wrapping her arms around Hunter’s middle in a tight hug. “Thank ye for me sword, me Laird.” She beamed up at him and then skipped off toward the keep.
Unable to look him in the eye, Daphne turned on her heel and hurried after her.
If I’m going to be here for any length of time, I’ll have to learn to manage me emotions. I must.