Chapter 10 #2
Wanting to distract herself, she looked down again. “I would rather hear the truth than pretty lies,” she said softly. “Even if those lies break me heart.” She clenched her fingers in her lap, plucking at the tops as if she were removing gloves.
“Aye,” She whispered back.
“But that doesnae mean I wish to lose hope,” His voice was gentler than she had ever heard it before. “Nor should ye.
Their gazes met once again and lingered long enough for Eleanor to feel the heat flooding her cheeks.
Where had the sudden change in his behavior come from?
She felt her breath catching in her throat as she became acutely aware of the silence between them and the distance separating their chairs.
Her pulse quickened when she realized just how easily that distance could be closed.
They had come to the study to discuss the matter with Hamish, but suddenly, and out of the blue, the atmosphere between them had changed.
Callum seemed to notice as his gaze drifted briefly to her mouth before returning to her eyes. The movement had been fleeting and barely noticeable, yet Eleanor had felt it all the same.
Saint preserve us, but I daenae ken what he is thinkin’.
She reached for the edge of her cloak, clutching the fabric tightly.
Callum exhaled slowly. “It is gettin’ late, we shouldnae be in here for too long.”
A nervous laugh escaped her. “And yet, here we are, naethin’ in life is happenin’ as it should.”
Callum’s lips twitched into something that could have been mistaken for a smile. “Aye, it isnae.”
For the first time all evening, the weight pressing upon her chest eased as she looked at him, and to her great surprise, she found herself smiling back.
The sight seemed to affect Callum more than she expected. His expression grew strangely intent. As though he had forgotten what they had been discussing altogether.
The realization sent another rush of warmth through her.
“Eleanor,” he whispered her name again, but it sounded different this time, slower and rougher than before.
The smile slowly faded from her lips as she swallowed hard. “Aye?” She allowed her gaze to move to his chest and take in the lazy look of the simple cotton shirt that opened at the apex of his throat.
For a moment, he simply looked at her with the fire crackling beside them.
Neither of them seemed to be able to move until Callum rose from his seat, his movements slow and calculated.
Eleanor's breath caught.
He crossed the space between them in two slow strides before stopping beside her seat.
He is far too close.
He was close enough for her to catch the scent of pine, leather, and smoke that always seemed to cling to him. Close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.
Her heart hammered against her ribs.
“What are ye doin’?” she whispered as she lifted her gaze.
His eyes searched hers. “Makin’ certain that ye are well. I should never have said that about yer brother.”
The excuse was weak, and both of them knew it.
Eleanor swallowed. “I am well, me laird,” she said almost breathlessly.
“Aye,” his voice was dangerously low. “But ye look as though the weight of the world is restin' on yer shoulders.”
Before she could stop him, Callum lifted a hand. His fingers brushed a loose curl from beside her face. The touch was brief and innocent, yet it sent a shiver of pleasure all the way to her core.
This man makes me feel things that I cannae…
Neither of them moved forward or even dared to breathe. The air between them seemed charged with something dangerous. Something neither of them was prepared to name.
Callum's hand lingered for a fraction too long before his jaw tightened again as if he were reminding himself of something. He stepped back slowly, almost reluctantly, as he kept his gaze fixed on hers.
The sudden loss of his nearness felt oddly disappointing to her, yet she was hesitant to admit why that was.
“We should end this meetin' before Iain decides to burst through the door and lecture us both.” The remark startled a laugh from Eleanor.
“Aye, he would enjoy that far too much.” She eased a little, feeling the tension leave her shoulders.
Callum grinned.
The sight stole her breath almost as effectively as his touch had done.
He offered her his hand. “Come, I shall walk ye back to yer chambers. We daenae ken whom we can trust in the castle.”
Eleanor stared at the hand for a moment before placing hers in it.
Callum's fingers closed around hers. His grip was strong, firm, and steady, something she had not expected to feel between them.
I trust him.
She suddenly realized with a start. In all her life, she had never so much as wanted to trust anyone beyond her father and brother, yet here she was trusting the laird that she was pretending to marry.
The grip lingered for a while longer as she allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, yet neither of them let go once she was standing in front of him.
And for one suspended moment, standing before the fire while the rest of the castle slept, Eleanor found herself wondering whether the greatest danger lurking within Castle Fraser was not Hamish at all.
But the man standing in front of her.
The man she was beginning to trust far more than she should.
And perhaps, if she were completely honest with herself, care for far more than she intended. Having her life threatened was one matter on its own, but feeling her heart at risk of escaping its cage made her far more anxious than she cared to admit.