“The tisane worked,” she said. “Though I do think I’ll reconsider my plans to become a drunkard. I thought I was going to die.”

Dirk laughed and took away the wooden bowl she’d scraped clean with a hunk of brown bread. “I’m glad ye’re in better spirits.”

’Twas midafternoon, Lilias appeared to be feeling much better. Dirk had checked on her throughout the day, giving her tiny portions of oatcakes until finally he was able to feed her an entire bowl of stew, which she’d just finished. Surprisingly, his mother had been mostly absent, leaving the two of them alone. He refused to think about why. Because that only meant that Lady Elle had likely instructed her mother to do so. And the two of them together, were usually up to no good.

“I am. I think I should like to get some fresh air.” She edged off the bed, her bare toes peeking from beneath the blanket.

“There’s not much to see about the inn, but I could walk ye around the grounds if ye wish. We canna go too far in case there are others like those who attempted to steal ye away, but if fresh air is what ye need, I’ll see that ye get it.”

A beaming smile creased her pretty face. “All right. I’ll just get dressed.” She flipped back the covers, then glanced up at him, flushing as they both realized at the same time she was only in her chemise.

Aye, he’d lifted her up from the floor in her chemise before, felt the curves her pressed against him, spied plenty beneath the nearly sheer fabric, but she’d been sick, and now she wasn’t.

The thin material had ridden up just above her knees, revealing creamy, shapely calves and tiny, perfect feet. In her current position, the fabric strained against her breasts, and her tiny nipples hardened at his gaze, illuminating the dusky, pink buds. His heart thudded against his ribs. Their gazes met, and it was hard for him to hide his desire, and what was worse, he could see that same wanting reflected in her eyes.

Dirk cleared his throat, needing to escape before he untied the ribbons at her throat to reveal the creamy globes of her breasts and bent to taste what held his fascination, which he knew would be deliciously sweet. “I’ll be waiting outside the door.”

Lilias yanked the covers back, hiding herself, and nodding so hard he was afraid her head just might snap off.

Outside the chamber, door closed, he leaned his head back against the wall, and scrubbed his hands over his face. He was rock solid with desire. Ballocks, but this was difficult. Having spent so much time with her, getting to know her, he was… starting to care for the lass. Damned irresponsible of him. Coveting another man’s woman was a sin. But the thing was, Lilias wasn’t yet another man’s woman. Though her brother had signed the papers, Olafsson had not yet done so, and pages could easily be burned…

Right now, she was under his protection. That was why he felt the intense need to possess her. Had to be.

Except the image of her shapely calves, the delicate turn of her ankles… the tight pink buds of her nipples. He ground his teeth, trying to gut the fantasy of bending low to lick and suck at those taut peeks from his mind. But that was easier said than done.

Perhaps he was the one who needed a bucket of water dumped over his head. For he needed to get the heated thoughts of her under control. His body under control. His cock throbbed with desire, which only made him think of parting those lithe thighs and sliding deep inside her tight, wet warmth.

Ballocks! If only there was a loch within walking distance, he’d plunge himself within it.

Gunnar’s heavy tread on the stairs jarred Dirk for a moment from his sizzling thoughts on Lilias. She wasn’t meant for him. Merely a means to an end. And if he wasn’t careful, she’d be the means to his end.

Gunnar reached the top of the stairs and eyed his laird warily. “How’s the lass?”

Dirk kept himself from growling out his frustration, which he considered a step in the right direction. “Better. Wants some air.”

Gunnar leaned on the opposite wall, crossing his arms and studying Dirk. If he wasn’t one of his best friends, Dirk might have called him out for his insolence. But as it was, Gunnar had been there for him since his youth, the voice of reason more often than not.

“It wasn’t food poisoning was it?” There was accusation in Gunnar’s tone.

Dirk stared at his best mate, knowing that he couldn’t lie to him, and if he did then he’d be betraying a mutual trust they’d held for a long time. Blowing out an annoyed sigh, he said, “Nay.”

“What then?”

“Wine.”

“Wine?” Gunnar raised a brow, expecting Dirk to elaborate.

He didn’t plan to. “Aye.”

“Where did she get that much wine?”

Bones, but was the man not going to leave it alone? “Me.”

“Ye?”

Dirk shoved off the wall, stopping himself before he grabbed Gunnar by the shirt. “If ye’re just going to ask me to repeat myself, maybe ye’d be better off having this conversation with yourself,” Dirk said irritably.

Gunnar frowned. “I’m just surprised is all.”

“How so?”

The expression on his mate’s face said he couldn’t believe Dirk was being so dense. “Ye’ve never… gotten a woman crapulous.”

“Nay.” He had a point.

“Nor have ye taken advantage of a maid.” Gunnar’s tone had changed, and instead of leaning against the wall, he now stood tall, taking a step forward. “What were ye thinking?”

Irritation lit in Dirk’s blood. How dare he accuse him of taking advantage of the lass? He might desire her, but that didn’t make him a ravisher. “I didna take advantage of her.”

“We all saw the way ye were brooding over her. The way ye raced off to save her. How ye stayed up here with her all night.”

“I slept outside her bedchamber. Because she is in my care. I have been charged with delivering her to my enemy, and already an attempt has been made on her life.”

Gunnar spoke low, understanding in his tone. “And wouldna it be grand revenge to have had her first.”

That only pushed Dirk past irritation into downright fury. He lurched forward, coming face to face with Gunnar. “I did not take advantage of her. She’s as intact as she was when she came to Dunstaffnage.”

“Then why did ye funnel wine down her gullet?”

“I did no such thing.”

“She did so herself?”

“Aye. The lass is distraught.”

Gunnar was silent then, his frown deepening, and then a light going off in his eyes. “Did those maggot-munchers… touch her?”

“Nay.” Dirk backed off, not willing to say more, else they come to blows.

Gunnar nodded. “I believe ye when ye say ye didna. But I warn ye, my laird, dinna trifle with the lass unless ye mean to start a war. For that’s what loving a woman in her position means.”

Dirk gritted his teeth. “Ye’ve nothing to worry about. I dinna want her.”

Gunnar nodded, though he did not look as though he believed his laird. “Good. Should I escort her outside?”

The thought of Lilias on Gunnar’s arm fueled something hot and angry in his belly he didn’t want to name. “Nay. I can handle it.”

“Ye’ve a lot of people counting on ye.”

“I know.” Then straightening, Dirk looked down at his second. “I needn’t the reminder. I am Lord of the Isles. Protector of Scotland. I’ll not betray my oaths.”

Gunnar nodded, backing toward the stairs. “And if ye do, know that your men will remain behind ye no matter what. For what it’s worth, we all hate that bastard Olafsson and would like nothing more than to see him buried. We like the lass, too.” He turned and descended.

Dirk had to stop himself from calling his mate back, thinking perhaps it was a good idea for him to escort Lilias on her walk instead. But then she opened the door, standing there looking shy and beautiful. The sleeves of the blue gown she’d worn before had been mended. A little shorter than previously, but not overly noticeable. The moment he glanced into her eyes, he saw the spark of defiance he was growing to adore.

“My lady,” he murmured, hoping that by being more formal than they’d been all morning he might be able to set himself back on track.

“My laird.” There was something changed in her voice. A hint of intimacy that had grown overnight.

“Shall we?” He held out his elbow to her, gritting his teeth as her slim fingers slid around his arm, palpating the flesh of his muscles, and sending a fresh wave of yearning careening through him. “I spotted some troughs by the stable, if ye are in need.” He hoped his joke would lighten the mood.

Lilias let out a laugh that did the opposite. He loved the sound of it, wanted to hear it again. So, instead he stiffened and frowned. He led her down the stairs, keeping his face hard as he nodded at his men. All business. That was it. Nothing more.

Of course, the lady beamed a smile at his warriors that had them cocking their heads in question, and ogling her with admiration. Were they wondering why a lass who’d been ill with food poisoning would be so happy? Were their thoughts following a similar path as Gunnar’s? Och, but he couldn’t think too much on it. He was their leader. They had to believe him. He demanded they believe him. Never before had he given them reason to doubt.

Opening the door to the inn, light flooded in, momentarily blinding them as their eyes adjusted from the darkened room.

“The sun has come out to play,” she said softly, squeezing his arm as she excitedly tugged him outside.

He groaned at the way the word play sounded on her lips. Teasing, flirting, taunting. The lass was full of surprises. Clearing his throat, he managed to say, “Aye, we are lucky.”

The sun was shining, though there were still some white puffy clouds in the sky, it was painted a watery blue, and if anything it may mist, but not much more. There were guards stationed outside the inn and a few scouts hidden in the forest that he could just make out. They weren’t taking any precautions after what had happened before. Somebody meant to steal Lilias away. He just wasn’t certain who since the three abductors had not been willing to shed much light other than they planned to hold her for ransom. But Dirk would bet his holdings it was Olafsson. The bastard would want to steal her away and not sign the papers of their betrothal contract, formally putting the treatise into play. Olafsson was a schemer, and a cheat. He’d want the prize and everything else, too.

Lilias flounced forward, bending to stroke the petals of a weed. She still had some dark circles beneath her vibrant-blue eyes, and her creamy skin was paler than it ought to be, but that didn’t matter, she was still radiant and made his chest swell with something he couldn’t place.

“Spring has sprung,” she said in a singsong voice, then looked up at him. “Well, are ye coming or not?”

Dirk stood stiffly by the door, watching the lass who’d transformed from overly prickly in his castle to full of wonder, and playfulness. Watching the way her hips swayed as she walked had him thinking about something else that kept springing.

“Aye.” He stepped forward and she rose to put her arm back through his.

“I just hope tomorrow’s weather is as nice considering ye were so kind as to let me rest today. ’Twould have been a good riding day. I am feeling so much better. I can never thank ye enough for helping me. I confess to being wholly mortified. I do hope ye and your men will forgive me.”

“There is no need, my lady. They think ye’ve suffered a bout of food poisoning.”

She clutched at his arm with both hands, her breast brushing against his muscle. He ground his teeth.

“Only my nursemaid has ever seen me so ill—but not from wine,” she added quickly. “An influenza that went through our castle last summer, and a true bout of food poisoning when I was a wee lass. Please, I do hope ye can forget me in that state.”

He glanced down at her, worrying her plump lower lip until it was bright red. Saints, but he wanted to be the one teething that luscious mouth.

Again he found himself clearing his throat to empty his thoughts. “I will swear to anyone who asks that I saw nothing.”

She squeezed him again, her breasts tormenting his arm and the rest of him. “Ye’re too kind, Laird MacDougall. Verra chivalrous.”

He grinned despite himself. “My mother and grandmother have taught me well. Besides, they’d have my hide if they knew I’d allowed ye to get so unbelievably deep into your cups and then left ye to fend for yourself.” Hell, if the truth came out they may have his hide anyway.

“I might have perished were it not for ye,” she mused.

Dirk chuckled. “So ye owe me your life, then,” he teased.

But, Lilias stopped walking and looked up at him seriously, and he felt like falling into the deep blue pools of her eyes and never coming out.

“That is the thing, my laird, I do. I owe ye my life, and I’m afraid I could never repay ye. Please, if there is anything…”

She trailed off, leaving plenty of room for his imagination to break in and demand a list of things he could ask for. A kiss, and then another and another. Let him nibble her lip. Touch her breasts. Taste her. Let him wrap her long, silky legs around him. Stroke her. Stroke him.

Bloody hell!

“Ye owe me nothing, beag calman. I simply do my duty.” But his use of the pet name he’d given her, wee dove, was in direct contradiction to that. He thought of her sweet poem, and what it must mean. How she wished to be free with her impending marriage, she was not only losing her freedom, but perhaps her sense of self. That realization made his heart clench painfully.

Lilias gazed up at him a moment longer, and he was powerless to look away. Except when his eyes slid toward her mouth. That kiss in the woods, it had only opened up Pandora’s box. He wanted more. From the way her eyes dilated and her pale cheeks pinkened, he could tell she, too, was thinking of their kiss.

But so out in the open… He couldn’t risk it. As much as he wanted to lean down and claim those luscious lips for his own. Dirk ground his teeth, cupped her soft cheek and slid his thumb over her cheekbone, marveling at the difference in her delicate bone structure versus his own ruggedness.

“Olafsson is a damn lucky bastard.” He didn’t care that his words were crude or gruff, in that moment, he couldn’t help telling her exactly how he felt.

Lilias’s throat bobbed and she leaned slightly into his hand before shifting her gaze and letting go of his arm.

“We’d best keep walking,” she said, breaking the spell and putting distance between them.

They walked around the side of the inn where the stables housed the horses, Dirk following behind as she seemed to want a few moments to be as alone as he could allow. Several stable hands glanced up, nodding to them both then returning to their duties. Around the back of the inn was a vegetable and herb garden. Two adolescent lasses were picking and filling their baskets. They glanced up, murmuring “G’day, my lady, g’day my laird,” before returning to their tasks.

They continued on, Dirk following Lilias and trying hard not to watch the sway of her rounded hips. Instead, he concentrated on the back of her head, which led his gaze to the long column of her neck, her delicate shoulders, slim waist. Before he could stop himself, he was taking in the way her arse jiggled, just slightly, beneath her gown.

Ballocks. Ballocks. Ballocks.

There was no help for it. No matter how hard he tried to look away from her, his gaze kept returning, tormenting him.

She made her way back around the other side of the inn, which faced the bend in the road.

Before they came back around to the front, she stilled, waiting for him to catch up. “How are ye feeling, my lady?”

“Better.” She swiped a lock from her face that had come loose from her plait. He’d liked to twirl that silken tendril around his finger as he tugged her in for a molten kiss. “I admit my stomach still feels off and I have a dull ache in my head, but nothing like this morning. I think this air is helping.”

“Do ye wish to take another turn about?” Please say nay, put me out of my misery.

“Aye.”

God’s blood…

They walked in silence, him keeping a careful watch on the surroundings, expecting at any moment another band of marauders would storm through demanding he hand over the lady. The way she took in deep breaths and then let them out in sweet little sighs were downright distracting. Mo chreach, but every little sound was a temptation. It took every ounce of his willpower not to find a spot they wouldn’t be seen by his men, so he could haul her into his arms and kiss the breath from her.

After their fourth way around, and him wound tighter than an adder, she finally stopped him. “I am in need of some water.”

Thank heavens, he could get away from her now. He was in very serious danger of having his control snap, in which case he would toss her over his shoulder and disappear into the woods.

Dirk took her inside the inn, the main tavern rowdy with his men. Several sat around a table tossing bones up into the air and catching them in turn.

“What are they doing?” she asked, sidling closer, her need for water forgotten.

“Playing knucklebones. Have ye ever played?” He poured her a cup of watered ale from where a pitcher sat on a side table.

“Oh, thank ye,” she sighed, glancing up at him, taking the cup and sipping delicately. “I’ve always wanted to. My brother oft played with the other lads, but my mother didna think it appropriate for a lass.”

“Come and play then, now that ye’re feeling better.” Dirk led her toward the table. “The lady wants to play a round.”

Gunnar tapped the table. “Take my place, and my bones.” He passed her the five pieces.

“Bones. Are they real?” she whispered, looking up at Dirk with a little trepidation.

“Bones of a sheep’s ankle. All cleaned, not to worry—“ He stopped himself from calling her beag calman in front of his men. “Have a seat.”

She sat down heavily on the bench, arranging her skirts and picked up the bones. “What do I do?”

Gunnar conveniently stood between Dirk and Lilias. “Ye’ll be playing Nolan.”

Though his mate had likely done it to reiterate his point from earlier, Dirk was actually relieved, needing the reminder and the distance.

“My lady.” Nolan perfected a bow from across the table. “If ye would do me the honor of going first.”

A wide grin filled her face, and her cheeks colored. “How do I play? Just toss them up like this?” She tossed the fives bones into the air, trying to catch them with both hands as they bounced off her fingers and fell to the tabletop.

“Not quite, lass,” Dirk said with a chuckle as the bones scattered. “First ye toss one up with one hand, and while it’s in the air, ye try to grab another from the table, and then catch it with the same hand. Then it will be Nolan’s turn. If ye did catch the one, then next toss, ye try to grab two from the table, until in the end, ye have all five bones in your hand.”

“All right. Let me give it a try.” She tossed up the bone, the tip of her tiny pink tongue, settling between her teeth, setting Dirk back on edge. She tried to swiftly grab one from the table, but the one she’d tossed came crashing down quicker than she could make a grab for it.

Nolan grinned like fox that’d caught a squirrel. He tossed up his bone, grabbed one from the table and caught the other in mid-air. “Like this, my lady.”

“I see ye tossed yours higher,” Lilias said, cocking her head observantly. This time when she went, she too tossed hers up and grabbed one from the table, catching it before it hit. “Ah-ha!”

It took her four more turns before she was able to grab two bones, and by that time, Nolan had won the game. Two more men played, both losing to her. The lady had the entire lot of his warriors enthralled at what a quick study she was.

“My turn,” Dirk said, bumping his guard out of the way, and receiving a warning glance from Gunnar, which he ignored. While his men were busy falling in love with Lilias and her tiny pink tongue of concentration, her infectious laugh, he was feeling mightily left out. ’Twas just a game, but he wanted in. From across the table, he met her gaze and gave her a wicked grin. “Think ye can best me, my lady? I’m terrible at this game.” His men murmured their agreement, siting as how he never played with them.

She rolled here eyes. “I highly doubt that.” She made a face at his men as if to ask for their opinion, and they all shrugged, on proclaiming loudly that they weren’t certain until now that he’d even known the rules. “But if that were true, which it seems highly unlikely, I’d let ye go first.”

Dirk chuckled. “I could never go before a lady. So, by all means, ye go first.”

“If ye insist.” Lilias tossed up her bone, and grabbed one before catching the other, a saucy grin on her face and a dangerous cock to her shoulder.

The lass was playing coy, taunting him. And it was working.

Dirk followed suit, purposefully dropping his bone.

His men let out whoops and hollers, teasing him for the lass having a leg up on him. Except for one, Gunnar, who stared at him with a blank expression from behind Lilias. Dirk ignored him.

She tossed up her bone, grabbed two from the table, and caught it before it had even fallen halfway.

“Ye’re quick, my lady.” He raked her with his gaze, taking note of the blush that crept over her cheeks.

A triumphant grin curled her lips, but to him it just looked utterly sensual. Dirk wanted to swipe the bones form the table, haul her up onto its surface and kiss the hell out of her.

She winked and he almost fell of his chair. In fact, one lad behind him did. “Come now, Lord of the Isles, ye must be quicker than me.”

Oh, he was. But he liked this bold side of her that came out when she thought she was winning. He was having too much fun to play to his full skill. He grinned tossing his up, and not catching it again.

“I’m not going to play if ye’re cheating,” she said, pursing her lips and squinting her eyes at him, a bit of that bossy lass he’d previously witnessed returning.

“Cheating?” He gave a mock gasp. “If ye were a man, I’d call ye out for such an offensive accusation.” He’d not tell her what he wanted to do to her instead.

“And if I were a man, ye’d not be holding back. Dinna hold back on me, MacDougall.”

God’s blood! How he could read into her words… His cock strained beneath the table, and he wasn’t certain if he did try to play to his ability now that he’d be able to, with how distracted he was.

This time when she tossed up her bone, she wasn’t able to gather three more bones before catching it. “Your turn. Show me what how ’tis done, MacDougall.”

Ballocks! His eyes widened, and several low whistles went up amongst his men. If the room were cleared… If he had a few drams of whisky… Hell, he didn’t need drink to bolster him… Just his bloody men to get the hell out, and then he would show her right and good how it was done. He’d leave her gasping with pleasure and begging for more.

But they weren’t alone. And she wasn’t bloody his, as Gunnar’s frown just above her golden head indicated. Well, if she wanted him to play for real, he was damned well going to try. Dirk didn’t hold back, easily catching and grabbing his first bone.

“Ye see?” She gifted him with one of her winning smiles. “I knew ye could do it.”

His men snickered, as she’d verbally patted him on the head like a hound.

Again she tossed her bones, rewarded with now being up to three when he had only one. Which he quickly remedied until they were tied.

The men were taking bets now, seeing as how Lilias was a fast learner, and their laird appeared wholly distracted. She tossed her bone high, moved to grab three bones from the table and caught the other just as it nearly landed on the wood. Dirk, never letting his eyes leave hers, did the same, catching, grabbing, and holding four.

The pulse in her neck jumped. “That was a good trick, my laird. Ye’ve been hiding your talents from me,” she murmured.

“I’ve many talents that have yet to be revealed, my lady.” Ballocks, that earned him a shake of Gunnar’s head. Why the hell did his mate have to act like his nursemaid? What was wrong with a little flirtation? “Can ye do it?” he asked her, ignoring his second-in-command.

“Toss and grab while not looking?” She worried her lip, and inside he groaned. “I’m not certain, but I will try.”

“This will be near to the last round. We both only need five.”

Her eyes locked on his, and that tiny, pink tongue emerged, as she tossed the gleaming white knucklebone into the air, snatched four from the table, and then caught the fifth. It teetered on the side of her thumb, and she twitched just enough to have it land precariously in her palm.

“The lady is the winner!” Nolan shouted.

“But he’s not had his turn,” Lilias declared. “It could be a tie.”

“Nay, my lady, it is whoever has five first,” Dirk said, winking. “Ye won fair and square.”

She set her bones down and tossed him a pouty look. “But I want to see ye catch five. Just as I did, without looking.”

“All right, for ye then.” He kept his eyes on hers, staring deep into their blue depths and trying not to get lost. He tossed up his bone, reached for the other four, but they weren’t there, he’d misjudged where to reach, so lost in her gaze and thoughts of pulling her into his arms, by the time he corrected his range, the bone he’d tossed landed on top of his hand instead of his palm.

He stilled, as steady as he could. “Does this count?”

Lilias grinned. “Aye, I should say it does.”

The men hollered and taunted him some more about being bested by a woman, but he didn’t mind. If he was going to let anyone best him, Lilias was the perfect option. And good thing, because if Dirk had won, he might have demanded she give him the only prize he wanted at the moment—a heated, blood-pounding kiss.

“I’m famished,” she declared, and before he had a chance to react, three of his men shoved tankards and trenchers of meat before her. She laughed. “Why thank ye, I think I’ve plenty here.”

It seemed he wasn’t the only one impressed with Lilias Cameron. What a shame that in a few short days, she’d be lost to them forever.

More than a shame. He’d never enjoyed a woman’s company as much as he enjoyed hers. Never desired a woman more. Never worried over… or… cared more. His gut twisted at the thought, making it hard to chew and swallow. From across the room, Gunnar gave him a sympathetic look. Ballocks, was he that obvious?

“Are ye well?” Lilias asked from across the table, nibbling on a chicken leg.

“Aye, my lady. Losing is a bitter ale to swallow.” He grinned hoping she wouldn’t believe him to be upset, for he was, but on another losing matter altogether—losing her.