The Man She Should Have Married - Page 37
The gentleness of his voice made her still inside. Made her remember and regret. Last time she hadn’t said enough and she had made a mess of everything. This time she didn’t want there to be any misunderstandings.
‘You don’t need to worry. This was a one-off. I’m not expecting anything from you. I know this kind of thing can happen.’
She knew she was speaking too quickly—babbling, in fact. But this was a different kind of truth. One that she didn’t want to tell. And just saying it out loud hurt.
She didn’t want to linger on it, or have to see the relief in his eyes, and so, shifting her weight, she leaned sideways and rooted around on the floor for their jackets.
‘Apparently so,’ he said.
As she handed him his jacket his green eyes locked onto hers, his expression impassive, impossible to read.
‘And, just so we’re clear, I’m not expecting anything from you either.’ Reaching up he pushed her hair away from her face. ‘So, no regrets, then?’
The past swelled up between them, but there was too much to say, too many words for this cramped space.
She shook her head.
‘Good.’ Leaning forward, he kissed her, gently at first, then harder. ‘Then maybe we should get inside, otherwise we will have something to regret. Like catching hypothermia.’
Slamming the door against a flurry of windborne snowflakes, Farlan felt shame heat his face.
Had he really just made a joke about hypothermia?
His jaw tightened. He was savagely, crushingly furious with himself.
He might not have been in Scotland for seven years, but he understood the dangers of a blizzard.
Having spent his teenage years on a farm, he knew that freezing temperatures and snowdrifts killed livestock. And they killed humans too.
If their phones had had any signal then they would probably have got away with nothing worse than a few scary hours sitting in a whiteout, waiting for a rescue party. But without a phone signal, in a car without a working heater, they were always going to be in trouble.
And yet, despite knowing what was at stake, he had ignored Nia—ignored her when she had first told him that there was more snow forecast, and then again when the sky had started to bleach out.
She had tried to persuade him to leave, but instead of listening, instead of letting her change his mind, he had overridden her natural and legitimate concerns about the weather and the distance they would need to travel to reach the road.
He had told himself that a couple more minutes wouldn’t matter either way.
But it had mattered.
Only what had mattered more to him—what always mattered the most—was that he had stayed firm.
It was like a badge of honour never to let himself be swayed, and because of that he had put his life, Nia’s life, in jeopardy.
‘We should probably light a fire.’
She had turned to face him, and in the brighter light of the bothy he saw that she was pale and shivering again.
Galvanised into action, he swore softly and, grabbing her hand, towed her across the room to one of the sofas that sat on either side of a cast-iron wood burner.
‘I’ll do that. You sit here.’
He glanced around. Next to the sofa there was a basket stacked high with colourful plaid woollen blankets and, tugging two from the pile, he wrapped them around Nia’s shoulders.
It was the easiest fire he’d ever built. The kindling was already neatly arranged in the grate, and the logs were so well-seasoned the wood burner roared into life almost as soon as he lit the match.
She started to stand up. ‘I’ll make some tea—’
Source: readsnovelonline.net