Alasdair studied her, the firmness of her tone, the way her eyes held his without fear. A small smile tugged at his mouth, though he tried to hide it.
“How considerate of ye,” he murmured.
“‘Tis nae me being considerate,” she answered. “‘Tis simple decency. One doesnae need to be a laird or a lady to ken that.”
Her words cut through him, and yet he couldn’t stop looking at her lips. He couldn’t even push down the heated memory of them moving against his. He remembered the hitch in her breath as she had pulled him close.
The memory stirred him again; he could feel his groin tightening.
Good God. Was this going to happen every time he saw her now?
He shifted, willing himself to control it, but the ache was persistent. He placed his hand over his belt subtly and hoped she did not notice.
Her eyes narrowed a little. “What are ye doing here anyway? Daenae tell me ye thought ye can finish?—”
He cleared his throat, interrupting her. “I am nae here for that,” he said, though his body begged otherwise. “Even if I wished it had gone further, ye stopped. I only wanted to ken why.”
She cocked her head. “Because I felt like stopping it.”
The words struck him as if she had cut him with a blade, but he said nothing in response. Instead, he drew in a breath and nodded once. “Very well.”
He tried to ignore the hurt in his chest and sound calm, though he wanted to demand more of her. He stepped closer and lowered his voice.
“The council returns today. I would have ye there. I willnae command it, as I can see ye daenae like being ordered around. So I only ask. But they are comin’ to see ye specifically, and yewill make things easier on all of us if ye speak a few pretty words to them.”
Lily crossed the bare floor toward the chair and sat, her fingers trailing over the wooden armrest. “I told ye before. I am only here to heal, nae to play the lady of a clan. Unless ye wish to threaten me with imprisonment.”
“Nay,” he said, his voice hard. “Nay imprisonment. I only ask that ye think of the people. We just ended a war. It will do them good if they look to their Lady as well as their Laird. If ye stand with me, they will see it.”
He paused, half hoping the words would sink in.
“Theyneedto see it.”
She lifted her chin, her eyes narrowed on him. For a long moment, she said nothing. The silence thickened until, at last, she gave a nod. “Very well. I will come.”
“Thank ye.”
Relief washed over him. His shoulders relaxed, but he kept his expression neutral. He turned as though to leave when his eyes landed on the open wardrobe at the side of the chamber.
Inside, the dresses he had chosen for her hung neatly on their hooks. The sight pulled him forward, his hand reaching to brush the fabric. It shone in the light and felt soft beneath his palm.
“These are fine dresses,” he said, his voice low. His eyes lingered on one. A gown of moonlight blue, threaded with silver lace across the bodice. “This one is me favorite. When I saw it, I couldnae help but picture ye in it. I still do every day.”
Lily rose slowly from her chair, and her eyes narrowed. “If ye think that will make me wear it, ye are wrong.”
He turned his head toward her, and a sly smile touched his mouth, though it did not reach his eyes. “Fair enough.”
She did not move. She only stared at him as though she wished to read his mind. He let the fabric fall from his hand and turned back toward the door.
The walk out of her chamber was difficult, and he felt the pull of her gaze on his back. He felt the ache in his groin. It was still strong, though he fought to master it.
He stepped into the passageway at last and pulled the door shut behind him. His breath came hard, and he pressed a hand to the wall, grounding himself.
He had to control himself. He could not go on like this, so easily puppeteered by her voice or her face or even nothing but the memory of her lips.
He had to find a way to keep calm in her presence. Yet the mere thought of it already sounded like a losing battle.
CHAPTER 15
