Iona, one of my best friends in the world, is Darcy’s daughter, from her first marriage to the late Lord Campbell. Iona and I are thick as thieves—basically sisters, I suppose. She’s been gone for the last two years—off in France living with Darcy’s cousin, but she just arrived back last week.
“A little warning next time?” she hisses in my ear as we hug before she giggles and pulls back. “You know, before you go running off again?”
I bite my lip, blushing.
“I don’t think there’ll be a next time,” I whisper back heatedly.
Iona’s brow furrows for a second before her eyes dart past me to sweep over Callum. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say there isn’t an odd flash of pure jealousy as I see her drinking him in.
I clear my throat sharply, and when her eyes snap back to me, I cringe. Her brows arch, and I can feel the heat on my cheeks.
…Oh, she knows.
“You run from him again, and I’ll have no choice but to have you labeled as mentally unfit.”
I grin at my friend.
“How’s your ankle, by the way,” she says flatly, a grin teasing her lips. My entire face gets even redder, instantly, and her small grin turns into a wide smile.
“Oh, you had better believe we’re taking the same carriage back to your fathers—”
“Tonight,” my father’s voice booms out over the small gathering of my family, Callum, the guardsmen, and a few of the help.
“Tonight, we stay here, at Aerie Doon, and we feast.”
I swear, I’m smiling before Darcy goes into furious hysterics. But watching her melt down certainly keeps it on my face longer. I turn and catch the disgusted look on Iona’s face, and my smile quickly drops.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
“Don’t be.”
Her voice is edged and cold.
“God is she insane,” she mutters, turning and taking a deep breath before turning back to me and smiling.
“You’re getting married, Cat! You!”
I bite my lip, and I can’t even stop my gaze from drifting to Callum.
Callum who… does things to me. Callum who gets me all twisted up inside, and who sends sinful, wicked desires coursing through my body. Callum who makes me feel and want so hard that I actively ran from him before.
…That will not be happening again.
Our eyes lock, standing there apart from each other, and the fierceness in that gaze takes my breath away. I shiver, remembering his hands on me, and his mouth on me. And as the heat sizzles through my core, I can feel his seed still on my skin, like a filthy little reminder. A dirty little secret.
…A promise that we’ve only just begun.
Chapter 7
Callum
Aerie Doon is a quiet, quaint place. Without all the commotion and the people here, I understand fully why it was here Cat ran to, even if the idea of her running away from me has my jaw tightening and my scowl deepening. But then, I also know why she ran.
Nine. Nine other men tried to take her for themselves, and every one of them failed. They failed because they weren’t worthy of her. Not strong enough. They failed because they weren’t me. And they failed because where fate, or luck, or destiny is concerned, she was born to be mine, just as I was born to be hers.
She ran because what happened with us Hamish’s wedding wasn’t just “a kiss.” Not even close. Because that kiss shattered the walls I’d build around myself since coming back from the Holy Land. That kiss destroyed my cold defenses.
That kiss showed me what I could have, and all it took was a taste for me to know that I was destined for her.
And so here we are. Quaint? Quiet? I growl as my eyes scan the chaos of the top of the small hill that the keep stands upon. Because right now, the old guard post is anything but quiet. Workers and guards scramble to erect the array of tents that Lord McDougall has traveled with. Cook tents, a small barracks for his men. An overhang for the horses. Sleep quarters, and of course, a large tent fit for a feast, which is exactly what it’s being used for this evening.
I don’t know Lachlan McDougall well, but I know him well enough to both respect him and see the respect he has for me in his eyes. And I think he knows I won’t be scared off from his daughter, which is why we’re feasting tonight in celebration of the wedding that we’ll have the moment we return to Lachlan’s castle.
Though while the cooking food smells wonderful, and a cup of strong ale or good whiskey sounds perfect right now, none of it comes close to what I really want.
One of Lord McDougall’s men rings a bell, signifying the start to the dinner feast, and we all take our seats at the large table. My eyes land on Cat, sitting across from me, and it’s everything I can do to stop the groan from rumbling from my lips. Or hell, to stop myself from lunging over the table and scooping her into my arms.