Chapter 10

10

" A lasdair wants ye."

The words brought Charlotte instantly back to last night when she lay on her bed dreaming of the dark-eyed man. She blinked hard and shook her head, forcing the blush away from her cheeks.

Hayden stood in front of her, waiting for her answer. He had just knocked on her door as Charlotte prepared to go down to breakfast.

"Does he?" Charlotte asked. She forced herself to remember yesterday's argument, knowing that fight would be at the forefront of Hayden's mind.

"Where's Ben?" Charlotte asked.

"At breakfast with Orlaith."

"And Alasdair?" Charlotte asked. Saying his name gave her stomach a little flip.

"In his study," Hayden continued. He seemed a bit miffed that Charlotte wasn't rushing there immediately.

"Thank you for telling me." Charlotte started to close her door, but Hayden shoved his foot against the doorframe, blocking it. He looked at Charlotte with a crooked smile as he broke out of his formal role as messenger to level with her.

"I dinnae ken what games ye and Alasdair are playing."

"There are no games," Charlotte assured him.

"If ye say so," he laughed as he shook his head. "But I suggest ye go to his study as requested. Ye must ken how stubborn the man can be. If ye dinnae go to his study this morning, he may take ye from the dining room and carry ye there himself."

Charlotte's cheeks went hot as the image of Alasdair carrying her down the hallways flooded her mind. She was angry with herself for feeling such pleasure at the suggestion. Once again, she tried to remember his childish behavior at lunch yesterday.

"And you would stand by and let him?" Charlotte challenged. "If anyone can stand up to the man, certainly it must be you."

Hayden gave her that rueful smile once more.

"After the showing ye gave in the dining room yesterday," he said, "I think the person best suited to stand up to Alasdair is ye."

Hayden smirked at her before turning around and walking toward the dining room.

"His study," he called back over his shoulder. Charlotte rolled her eyes and turned in the opposite direction, headed for Alasdair's study. She was angry he summoned her to his room like a servant. He should have sought her out himself instead of sending Hayden to play messenger.

Very well, Alasdair. You want to speak with me? That's good. Because I have a few things I would like to say to you myself.

When Charlotte entered the room, Alasdair's withering glare made every angry exclamation and outraged insult fall right out of her head. She felt frozen in front of him, but she pushed her fear aside and remembered everything she had thought about as she walked over here. It was time she gave Alasdair a piece of her mind.

"I willnae tolerate ye meddling with me and me son."

"Meddling?" she asked. "After dragging me here and announcing I will stay for a month, you are telling me not to meddle? How absurd."

Charlotte stared back at Alasdair, taking in his appearance for the first time that morning. She noted the dark circles under his eyes and the hair that fell around his shoulders when it was usually neatly tied.

"I didnae ask ye to make decisions about me son. If I want to speak with him, then I willnae have ye stop me."

"I see," Charlotte said. She crossed her arms in front of her chest as she stepped forward. "Well, I will stop making decisions as soon as you stop making your son uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable?" Alasdair burst out. She saw the anger bubbling up behind his eyes. "I am not making me son uncomfortable. I am trying to keep him safe."

"By screaming at him?" Charlotte asked. "By bullying the boy into speech?"

"Don't you care about the man who kidnapped him?" Alasdair asked, ignoring her questions. "Don't you want to know who took him, so we can make sure it never happens again?"

There was a desperation in his voice that made Charlotte look at the man more closely. It was then that she saw the emotion lying underneath all his anger. She saw the raw pain the man carried inside of him like it was a part of his very being.

"Of course, I want to find the man," Charlotte told him, softening her voice to a soothing tone. "But I care even more about Ben. You can't scare the information out of him. Only when he feels safe and comfortable will he tell us what you want to know."

Charlotte saw Alasdair pause at this.

"I gave him time," he said. "During the entire trip from England to Scotland, I never once pressured the boy to speak."

Charlotte snorted at this explanation.

"The child needs more than three days," she laughed. "Perhaps you should exercise some patience."

"Dinnae I tell ye not to tell me what to do?" Alasdair asked. He strode closer to her, so Charlotte had to look up to make eye contact with the man.

"I believe you told me not to meddle . Is that the word you used? I didn't hear anything about making decisions."

Alasdair glared at her, and Charlotte challenged herself to hold his gaze.

"Ye are vexing," he said, bringing his face close to her own. "Ye vex me every time ye speak."

With Alasdair so close to her, she could feel her heart rate soaring. Her breath came quickly, and she was suddenly struggling to keep her mind on their conversation. Instead, she thought about what it would be like to reach up and brush that lock of hair away from Alasdair's forehead.

"You prefer I do not speak?" Charlotte asked. "And yet you are the one who called me here. If anyone is vexing, it's you."

"Enough," Alasdair said. Charlotte saw his eyes drop down to her lips. She forced herself not to bite her bottom lip, a nervous habit. "Stop speaking."

Charlotte leaned forward, so her own breath was hot against Alasdair's neck.

"Make me."

She would never know who made the first move, but Alasdair's lips were suddenly on her own. He pushed against her with urgency, bringing his hand to her waist to steady them both as his mouth found hers. Charlotte was shocked by the softness of his lips but even more shocked by her own eagerness as she pushed back against him.

She felt the warmth of his tongue as it ran along her bottom lip, coaxing her mouth open. Charlotte heard that soft moan emerge from her, low and surprising. But instead of feeling shy, she smiled at him, and Alasdair looked back at her with hunger in those dark eyes.

He bent back down and kissed her again, but this time, he dipped his tongue into Charlotte's mouth, shocking her. She felt her body stiffen at the new sensation, but then Alasdair's hand framed her face, coaxing her into the kiss. She relaxed into it, her chest heaving as she struggled to understand the way her stomach flipped at his touch.

With one hand at her face and one at her waist, Alasdair was suddenly pulling her closer, bringing her body against his. The crash of their bodies together brought memories of all the moments he had trapped Charlotte's body with his own. She pulled her mouth away, trying to regain control as her body urged her forward.

"Is this vexing to you?" Charlotte teased, pulling away to give him a mischievous smile. She stepped back, hoping to put some distance between herself and him. She needed to slow things down. But her knees hit into the arm of a chair, and once again, Alasdair was closing the distance.

"Sometimes it's good to be vexing," he whispered. He wrapped his arm around her back and dipped her down to devour her lips again. And once again, she fell into the intoxicating feel of the strong man above her.

Charlotte's hands roamed up Alasdair's back, pulling him closer to her.

His mouth kept going, and she felt desire course through her as he kissed down to the tops of her breasts.

"I've wanted to kiss ye since the first time ye brought me to your office," Alasdair told her.

Charlotte started, suddenly thinking of the orphanage. She pulled away though she hated to lose the feel of his lips along her skin.

"Are ye alright?" he asked, but Charlotte stood up. She was suddenly remembering her responsibilities and all the reasons she should not be sitting here with Alasdair running kisses along her body.

"I… I did not mean…" She was suddenly confused, wondering how they had gotten here. She saw the crease in Alasdair's forehead as he observed her, trying to understand what had gone wrong.

"Alasdair! Me Laird!" The screaming from the other side of the door was accompanied by the pounding of someone's fist. It made Charlotte jump, and she darted her eyes toward the door, suddenly panicked someone would walk in on them.

"I am busy," he bellowed. He took Charlotte's hand in his own, as if he wanted to say something.

"Ye must open the door, Me Laird."

The knocking on the door was nearly reverberating through the floorboards, and Charlotte heard Alasdair sigh in a deep expression of frustration. She couldn't help wondering if some of that frustration was directed at her. She watched Alasdair stride toward the door.

"I'll get rid of them," he said over his shoulder.

The pounding was more insistent, and Charlotte worried the person would knock the door down.

Alasdair growled as he flung open the door. He opened it with such force that the door crashed hard into the wall behind it.

"What do ye want?" he screamed, but Charlotte heard the anger leave his voice halfway through the question. She stepped forward to see who stood there and saw Orlaith, her face streaked with tears.

"What is it?" Charlotte asked, feeling her limbs go cold at the sight of her. She rushed forward, and her arm brushed against Alasdair's. Orlaith took a large, shaky sigh.

"It's Ben," she cried.

"What about him?" Alasdair asked. Charlotte gripped his arm hard, bracing herself for bad news. Orlaith closed her eyes, and a fresh batch of tears followed the rivulets down her face.

"It's… I'm sorry," she said. She opened her eyes, and Charlotte saw the truth before the words were even spoken.

"It's Ben. He's gone missing."