away and reached into his left boot, pulling out the special dirk he’d shown me before, with the hilt carved from a deer’s antler. Twisting it open, Logan once more revealed the iron key to the doors in the secret chamber.
“This key is verra important. It means everything to me.”
I shook my head and took a step back. “Then please don’t give it to me. I can’t be in charge of it. What if I lose it?”
“Ye won’t lose it.” Logan said it like it was a statement, a fact. So confident was he that I’d not dare lose it. “’Tis important, Emma, that ye listen to me verra carefully.”
He gazed intently into my eyes, making the pit of my stomach churn.
“Guard this with your life. Whoever has the key is the Guardian of Gealach.”
I shook my head violently. “No, no, no. I don’t want it. I can’t.” There was no way on God’s green earth, or hell’s high water that I was going to take on the role he requested of me. “I just can’t, Logan. I’m not strong like you. I don’t know how to take care of people. Before I came here I could barely take care of myself. You can’t do this. I can’t do this.”
Panic made me tremble and my stomach suddenly felt like it was on fire. Another step had me wobbling as my boot lace caught under my foot.
“Emma—”
“What is it you fear will happen while you’re gone? What has possessed you to give me this key? This duty?” I hated that my voice shook, that I was suddenly so weak in front of him.
“Emma, love.” He pulled me in roughly, kissed me on the forehead and then held me at arm’s length again. “Ye can do this. ’Tis not that I fear something will happen to me. I have every intention of returning to you, and as swiftly as I can. But this key”—he held it up in front of my eyes—“is the key to the castle. The key to everything. Ye know how much MacDonald wants to get his hands on it.”
“Precisely why you should have it.” I raised my hands a little. Exasperated. “I mean, you are much stronger than me. I’m going to be here alone with that hellish woman. She could take it from me.”
“Ye won’t let her.”
“How can you be sure? My room has been broken into before. What’s to say it’s not broken into again? Maybe she’ll decide to ransack it the moment you leave.”
“Ye will keep the key on ye. Just as I have kept it on me. Never leave the room without it. Let the key burn its place against ye, so that ye may never be without it.”
I shook my head again, fearing more the great responsibility of holding the key, rather than any harm that could come to me from holding it. “What if it falls out of my boot?”
Logan looked at me seriously, his brows drawn together in concentration. “Ye will strap it to your thigh.”
“My thigh?” This was the stuff of westerns when saloon dollies and gun -slinging women holstered pistols to their thighs amidst their garters. That wasn’t me.
“Aye, sit.”
But, maybe, I had to become that woman if I was going to survive here.
Logan led me over to the chair, nudging me to sit in it. He knelt before me and took my foot up onto his bent knee. W ith slow, measured movements he slid the skirt of my gown and chemise up over my thigh, revealing my flesh to his gaze. I was suddenly hot. Overcome with need, and his face was only a foot away from my sex, which was nearly drenched. I was certain he could sense my desire, smell it as he breathed deep.
He grinned at me, wicked intent in his eyes. “Wish that I did not have to leave. I’d fuck ye in this chair.”
My breath caught and I nodded. “I’d like that.”
Logan cleared his throat and stood, walking over to the wardrobe and rummaging through it and then disappearing through our joined doorway into his own chamber. He quickly returned with a leather strap and I was swiftly reminded of how he’d tied me to his bed and made love to me, and also of how much I wanted him to do that again. To feel the leather around my
“This key is verra important. It means everything to me.”
I shook my head and took a step back. “Then please don’t give it to me. I can’t be in charge of it. What if I lose it?”
“Ye won’t lose it.” Logan said it like it was a statement, a fact. So confident was he that I’d not dare lose it. “’Tis important, Emma, that ye listen to me verra carefully.”
He gazed intently into my eyes, making the pit of my stomach churn.
“Guard this with your life. Whoever has the key is the Guardian of Gealach.”
I shook my head violently. “No, no, no. I don’t want it. I can’t.” There was no way on God’s green earth, or hell’s high water that I was going to take on the role he requested of me. “I just can’t, Logan. I’m not strong like you. I don’t know how to take care of people. Before I came here I could barely take care of myself. You can’t do this. I can’t do this.”
Panic made me tremble and my stomach suddenly felt like it was on fire. Another step had me wobbling as my boot lace caught under my foot.
“Emma—”
“What is it you fear will happen while you’re gone? What has possessed you to give me this key? This duty?” I hated that my voice shook, that I was suddenly so weak in front of him.
“Emma, love.” He pulled me in roughly, kissed me on the forehead and then held me at arm’s length again. “Ye can do this. ’Tis not that I fear something will happen to me. I have every intention of returning to you, and as swiftly as I can. But this key”—he held it up in front of my eyes—“is the key to the castle. The key to everything. Ye know how much MacDonald wants to get his hands on it.”
“Precisely why you should have it.” I raised my hands a little. Exasperated. “I mean, you are much stronger than me. I’m going to be here alone with that hellish woman. She could take it from me.”
“Ye won’t let her.”
“How can you be sure? My room has been broken into before. What’s to say it’s not broken into again? Maybe she’ll decide to ransack it the moment you leave.”
“Ye will keep the key on ye. Just as I have kept it on me. Never leave the room without it. Let the key burn its place against ye, so that ye may never be without it.”
I shook my head again, fearing more the great responsibility of holding the key, rather than any harm that could come to me from holding it. “What if it falls out of my boot?”
Logan looked at me seriously, his brows drawn together in concentration. “Ye will strap it to your thigh.”
“My thigh?” This was the stuff of westerns when saloon dollies and gun -slinging women holstered pistols to their thighs amidst their garters. That wasn’t me.
“Aye, sit.”
But, maybe, I had to become that woman if I was going to survive here.
Logan led me over to the chair, nudging me to sit in it. He knelt before me and took my foot up onto his bent knee. W ith slow, measured movements he slid the skirt of my gown and chemise up over my thigh, revealing my flesh to his gaze. I was suddenly hot. Overcome with need, and his face was only a foot away from my sex, which was nearly drenched. I was certain he could sense my desire, smell it as he breathed deep.
He grinned at me, wicked intent in his eyes. “Wish that I did not have to leave. I’d fuck ye in this chair.”
My breath caught and I nodded. “I’d like that.”
Logan cleared his throat and stood, walking over to the wardrobe and rummaging through it and then disappearing through our joined doorway into his own chamber. He quickly returned with a leather strap and I was swiftly reminded of how he’d tied me to his bed and made love to me, and also of how much I wanted him to do that again. To feel the leather around my
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