Beyond the Highland Mist
Page 45

 Karen Marie Moning

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“Oh!” she breathed, as he nipped her silken neck.
Emboldened by his success, he breathed the first tentative words. He needed to tell her; needed her to understand that this was no game. That he had never in his life felt this way, and never would again. She was the one he’d been waiting for all these years—the one that completed his heart. “Ari, my heart, my love, I—”
“Oh, hush, Adam! No need for words.” She pressed her lips to his to silence him.
Hawk froze, rigid as an arctic glacier and every bit as chill.
His lips went still against hers, and Adrienne’s heart screamed in agony. But how much worse would it scream if she became a fool again?
His hands dug cruelly into her sides. They would leave bruises that would last for days. Slowly, very slowly, one by one, his fingers unclenched.
She had said his name!
“The next time you say Adam’s name, lass, is the time I stop asking for what I already own and start taking. You seem to forget that you belong to me. There is no need for me to seduce you when I could simply take you to my bed. The choice is yours, Adrienne. I bid you—choose wisely.”
Hawk left the broch without another word, leaving Adrienne alone in the darkness.
CHAPTER 14
ADRIENNE SHOULD HAVE WORKED UP AN APPETITE. SHE’D spent the rest of the day after the falcon incident wandering every inch of the bailey. Was this day ever going to end? she wondered. She must have walked twenty miles, so she should have burned off some of her pent-up frustration. Even her elite guard had looked a little peaked when she’d finally consented to return to the castle proper and brave encountering the Hawk.
Dinner offered fluffy potato soup, thick with melting cheese and spiced with five peppers; a delicate white fish steamed above a fire in oiled olive leaves, garnished with buttery crab; asparagus seared to perfection; plump sausages and crisp breads; puddings and fruits; lemony tarts and blueberry pie. Adrienne couldn’t eat a morsel.
Dinner was awful.
If she glanced up one more time and caught the look of death the Hawk had fixed on her, she would have to stuff a fist in her mouth to keep from screaming.
Adrienne sighed deeply as she spooned at the soup everyone else seemed to be relishing. She pushed it, poked at it, smashed the fluffy stuff. She was busily rearranging her asparagus into neat little rows when the Hawk finally spoke.
“If you’re going to play with your food, Adrienne, you might give it to someone who’s truly hungry.”
“Like you, my lord?” Adrienne smiled sweetly at the Hawk’s plate, which was also laden with untouched food.
His mouth tightened in a grim line.
“Is the food not to your liking, Adrienne, dear?” Lydia asked.
“It’s wonderful. I guess I still don’t have my appetite back—” she started.
Lydia sprang to her feet. “Perhaps you should still be resting, Adrienne,” she exclaimed, shooting an accusing look at her son. The Hawk rolled his eyes, refusing to get involved.
“Oh, no, Lydia,” Adrienne protested quickly. “I am totally recovered.” No way she was going back to the Green Lady’s room and playing invalid. Too many strange memories there. Tonight she planned to find a new room to sleep in; there certainly wasn’t a shortage in this massive castle. She was rather looking forward to exploring the place further and selecting a room of her own. “Really, I’m fine. I just ate too much at lunch.”
“You didn’t eat lunch,” Hawk said flatly.
“Oh, and who are you to know?” she shot back. “Maybe I ate in the kitchen.”
“No you didn’t,” Tavis added helpfully. “I was in the kitchen all day, I’ll say. Plumb forgot to eat is what you did, milady. A time or two I’ve done the same myself, I’ll say, and the hungrier I get, the less I feel like eating. So you better be eating, milady. You’ll be needing your strength back and I’ll say that again!” An emphatic nod of his cheerful head punctuated his decree.
Adrienne stared at her plate, a mutinous flush coloring her cheeks.
Lydia glared at Tavis as she came to stand protectively beside Adrienne’s chair.
“I find I’m not all that hungry myself,” Lydia said. “What say you and I go for a walk in the gardens—”
“With the brute force trailing behind?” Adrienne muttered, glancing at Hawk beneath lowered lashes.
“—while my son gets some beans from the buttery and brews us a fine cup of coffee for our return,” Lydia continued, dangling the bribe as if she hadn’t been interrupted.