A Time & Place for Every Laird by Angeline Fortin (ebook reader TXT) 📕

Claire rolled onto her side and hugged herpillow against her chest, staring out at the empty expanse of bednext to her. Reaching out, she ran a hand over the cold sheet. As amilitary wife, she had spent many nights alone. She was used to it,but that didn’t mean she enjoyed the solitude or didn’t miss havinga big warm body next to her. Claire blinked into the darkness atthe thought, one she had never admitted before, even in the darksilence of her thoughts.

Maybe that’s all it was. After all, it hadbeen three years since she’d had close contact with an unrelatedmale, and she had been taken off guard by a reluctant andunexpected appreciation for Hugh’s magnificent physique … and bythe shocking urge to reach out and touch him. Those feelings hadbeen reserved for Matt. Only for him and never another.

She had made her choices to remain aloneafter his death and was content with them. A little reminder thatshe was still a young woman who could appreciate a man’s bodywasn’t so bad. It was natural, human even.

But that little reminder left her feelinglonelier than she had in a long while.

As the clock strained toward midnight andsleep continued to elude her, Claire flung back the covers andcrept to her bedroom door. Silently, she opened it and tiptoed tothe top of the stairs, peeking into the living room. Hugh’s bulkyform was outlined on the couch.

Quietly, she inched down the steps andstarted when a deep voice broke the silence of the night.

“Once again ye dinnae call upon theauthorities tae come tae yer aid.”

He was watching her, Claire saw. His armswere folded behind his head and his eyes glittered in the darkroom.

“You’re awake.”

“As I said, ye make as much noise as astartled stag,” he said lightly. “Why do ye nae just rid yerself ofme, Sorcha? Why dinnae ye turn me in, as ye threatened before?”

“Did you think I would?” she whispered.

Her eyes, though Hugh could not see herexpression, were surely filled with uncertainty. An uncertainty hehad felt through the long evening as he had awaited her return. Orthe arrival of the authorities. “I must confess that the thoughtdid cross my mind.”

“Then why didn’t you stop me fromleaving?”

“Tis nae my place tae do so,” he answeredsimply. There would be many moments in the days to come when hisrescuer would have opportunity to rethink her decisions. Stoppingher once would not change that. The decision had to be hers.

Sorcha had said that he must trust her inthat matter, and oddly enough, Hugh did. He didn’t think that shehad the same faith in him, however. Her reaction after dinner whenhe had rashly pulled off his shirt to escape her probing questionshad spoken volumes. Her silence after her return had been equallytroubling.

Pushing aside the blanket covering him, Hughrose and walked slowly toward her. It was like approaching a youngfawn one wished not to startle, for Sorcha stared at him withrounded eyes, tensed to flee. Still, she did not, once againgaining his admiration as she stood her ground, giving him time tostudy her.

Even with nothing more than a shaft ofmoonlight upon her, Sorcha was a bonny lass of classic beauty withher high cheekbones, straight nose, and smooth jaw. Her lips werefull and rosy and her skin creamy smooth as well but her mostprominent feature was her eyes. They were wide and so dark thatunder the delicate arch of her brow they looked almost blacknow.

They were eyes that expressed every drop ofemotion she felt. There had been fear and panic showing in themthat day. Curiosity and wonderment as well. Sorcha was brimmingwith questions about him that Hugh wasn’t certain how to answer.And he was curious about her too. Curious as to why she hadn’tturned him over to the authorities, why she wanted to help him.Curious why he had entrusted his future to her, when he had alwaysbeen the one entrusted.

And curious how, at such a crossroads of hislife, he could be distracted for even a moment from his worries tolook at Sorcha as a woman and feel such bewitching desire forher.

His eyes drifted down her length, absorbingher shocking night apparel. She was dressed even more immodestlythan she had been before. The sweater and blue blouse with the opencollar and trousers she had worn earlier had been soprovocative—once his worries had eased sufficiently for him tonotice—that he’d been hard put to set the attraction aside. Yetfocusing on her allure was far more pleasant than wallowing in hismisery. Only constant conversation had kept him from fixating toointently on either one. Now Sorcha wore nothing more than a short,dark purple shift and a pair of short, baggy, plaid breecheswithout even a robe to cover her. Her shiny auburn hair that hadbeen clipped at her nape earlier now hung loose about hershoulders.

In his time, such a display in a man’spresence would be an unspoken invitation, one Hugh wanted toaccept. And Sorcha was a widow to boot, after all.

Yet even with the entirety of herwell-turned ankles exposed, Hugh could sense nothing promiscuousabout her nature. Nothing welcoming in her demeanor. Acting on hisimpulse to take her in his arms would serve only to cut short hiswelcome … and would likely earn him a slap to his cheek aswell.

“Are ye afraid, Sorcha?”

“Of you?”

“Aye.” Hugh held his breath, curious for heranswer. He had no desire for her to fear him.

“No,” she whispered finally, and Hughbreathed a soft sigh of relief, but she wasn’t finished. “Of allthe rest, though? Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Justifiably so,” Hugh returned quietly,watching as she rubbed her arms as if she were suddenly chilled. Heset his big hands there as well and chafed her arms lightly. Hekept the contact light but her body tensed anyway, a shiver shakingher from head to toe. “Sorcha,” he whispered, waiting until shelifted her head and met his gaze. “For what ye hae done for me,Sorcha, ye will forever hae my earnest and heartfelt thanks. Ye haenothin’ tae fear from me, lass, I promise ye.”

“Do you swear?”

“Often and wi’ inspiring éclat,” heresponded solemnly.

Sorcha just shook her head, as she tendedto, but Hugh