Chapter 12

12

" W hat are you reading?" Charlotte asked. She still sat in Orlaith's study. Ben and Alasdair were on the ground in front of her, drawing a picture together. Orlaith still read on the couch. Since picking up the book, she hadn't taken her eyes away.

"A love story," Orlaith smiled. Her eyes sparkled with energy as she wagged her eyebrows at Charlotte.

"How nice," she smiled. Charlotte's reading had been reduced to children's stories since opening the orphanage. It had been a long time since she read something for herself. "What's it about?"

Charlotte saw Alasdair look up at them, somehow intrigued by the conversation. She caught a glance between Alasdair and his aunt, and then the man turned back to Ben and the drawing, a smile on his face.

"There's a woman desperate to escape her circumstances," Orlaith said, closing the book in front of her. "She'll do anything to find a new life."

Charlotte nodded, liking the sound of this book already. It reminded her of her friend Molly, who had escaped the difficult life at the monastery to find love here in Scotland. She remembered Alasdair's promise to invite her friend to the party, and Charlotte felt lighter as she thought about being reunited with her friend.

"She's at the water, searching for a boat that might take her away across the German Ocean when she notices a man staring at her. He has the bluest eyes she's ever seen, and she can't stop staring at him. She begs the man to take her with him across the sea."

"Silly lass," Alasdair said, shaking his head from the ground. But Charlotte couldn't miss the similarities to her own story. Hadn't she begged Alasdair to take her here? Hadn't she felt drawn to him, just like the heroine of Orlaith's story? Charlotte leaned in, waiting for more.

"What happens?" Charlotte asked. She saw Orlaith's eyes go, clearly excited by the drama of this story.

"The girl's uncle comes by, searching for her. The very man she's running away from. He tries to take her back home, but the sailor intervenes and takes her with him, pushing off from the dock. She thinks she's safe… until she finds out this is a crew of only men. There isn't a room for her on board, so she must sleep in her savior's cabin. He's the captain of the ship with his own room but only one bed."

Charlotte felt Alasdair's eyes on her, but she couldn't look at him. She was starting to regret asking Orlaith about this story when Alasdair was sitting so close to her. She imagined the bed they shared, the very first night they met one another. She could still see the wide expanse of Alasdair's back as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"Sounds exciting," Charlotte said, hoping to end the conversation, but Orlaith kept going. She was energized by the tale, using her hands to express her excitement as she continued the plot.

"But that's not the worst of it. It doesnae take long for her to discover this is nay ordinary ship. The man isnae just a captain, he's a pirate, attacking and stealing from other ships on the ocean. He's ruthless, a true monster on the ocean, feared by many. But when they're alone together in their cabin, she sees the real him. There's something kind inside of him that led him to save her from her difficult circumstances. And then there's that attraction they feel for one another. It makes her desperate for the man to kiss her."

Charlotte's eyes grew wide at the words. She was shocked to hear this spoken aloud, and she reached down to cover Ben's ears, eliciting a smirk from Alasdair.

"Of course, they give in to each other, kissing one night with the moon overhead and the stars twinkling down from above. After kissing like that, ye can imagine how hard it is to sleep in the same room. Neither can sleep as they dream about touching one another, curling up in the small bed…"

"I think that's enough," Charlotte sputtered, her face aflame as she looked at the ground, unable to look anyone of them in the eye. She heard Alasdair's soft chuckle.

"Daenae tease, Orlaith," Alasdair said from the floor. "Ye forget Charlotte was a nun."

His eye caught hers, and she released her hands from Ben's ears as if she had been burned. Charlotte squirmed in her seat, feeling trapped in this conversation, desperate to be anywhere but on this couch where Alasdair and Orlaith could speak about her in the same breath as Orlaith's racy novel.

"She isnae a nun anymore," Orlaith said, capturing Charlotte with her gaze. "And that means she can enjoy whatever stories she would like. After a life in the church, ye may find them educational."

"Educational?" Charlotte choked out. Her whole body was hot, and she felt panicked, running through excuses in her mind to get herself out of that room. She saw Orlaith smirk at her.

"That's enough," Alasdair said. He stood up from the ground and wiped his hands on his breeches. It subconsciously drew Charlotte's eyes to his hips, and she instantly looked away, a jolt of desire pulling deep in her stomach.

"I have a party to plan for," Alasdair said. "If we're to have it soon, I need to get invitations out. Excuse me, ladies?"

Charlotte gave the smallest nod as she kept her eyes locked on her hands. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. Alasdair's footsteps across the floor were a comfort, and she took a deep breath, trying to slow her beating heart. When the door closed with a click, she glanced at Orlaith, whose eyes were locked on her face.

When she looked over, she saw a curious look on the woman's face. There was a slight question in her brow, as if she were working out a mystery in one of her novels.

"I think ye would like it," Orlaith said carefully. But her eyes moved back to the door that Alasdair had just left. She held up the book before passing it over to Charlotte, placing it on her lap.

"Ye should borrow it," the woman said. "There is nothing wrong with letting yer imagination run a little wild."

Get it together.

Alasdair couldn't sit in that room a second longer, watching Charlotte blush at Orlaith's words. The story Orlaith told, and the way Charlotte squirmed, sent fire throughout Alasdair's body. He could think of nothing except holding her over that chair in his office and devouring those cute pink lips.

But then she pulled away.

Alasdair scowled as he remembered Charlotte leaning back, disengaging her lips from his own. It was right after he told her he had been dreaming of her, desperate to kiss her since the first day he cornered her in her office. He couldn't help putting himself in Charlotte's shoes as he walked toward his office. When she looked at him, what did she see? A man whose face was horribly scared. Though Alasdair avoided looking at his reflection, he knew the deep, rough lines that cut across his face like the back of his hand.

No wonder she pulled away.

Alasdair pushed into his office, determined to set all thoughts of Charlotte aside. But one glance at that chair and he was right back to the feel of her lips and the stab of desire he felt as his hand pressed against her breast.

He crossed to his desk and sat down hard before pouring himself a tall glass of scotch. He dragged paper toward himself and set his mind to Ben's party and the invitations he needed to write. He told himself to think about his son. This party could be one step closer to finding his kidnapper.

He had promised to write to Lennox. After all, it had been the man's idea to have a party. He wondered if he should share his plan with his brother-in-law. Would Lennox be pleased to know Alasdair was still searching for Isabella's killer? After a moment's thought he decided to keep the invitation formal. He could speak to Lennox privately when the man arrived.

Next, he wrote to Ciaran McMahon making sure to include his wife, Molly, in the invitation. But writing the woman's name sent Alasdair's thoughts directly back to Charlotte. Something buzzed inside of him as he wrote to Charlotte's friend. He felt warm as he thought of how happy Charlotte was at the idea of seeing her friend.

A knock on the door startled him, and Alasdair sat up, suddenly dropping his smile into a hard scowl. He stood up and crossed quickly, hoping this interruption would not be as troubling as the last one. He had already called off the guards, letting the castle know Ben was safe.

The last person he expected was Charlotte. After her embarrassment in Orlaith's room and the way she pulled away from him in this very study, he thought she would keep some distance between them. But here she was, smiling sweetly with a basket in her hand.

"Charlotte," he said. And then, since it was never far from his mind, "Is Ben alright?"

"Of course," she nodded with a gentle smile. "Orlaith is with him."

"Come in," he said though he wondered if Charlotte would oblige. He couldn't understand his uncertainty in front of her and the way he was questioning his words. Alasdair had never been one to second-guess his conversations with people.

"I was wondering if you would come out," she said. She held the basket higher, and Alasdair observed it with a frown.

"I'm writing invitations," he said, nodding toward his desk. He saw Charlotte glance into the room, and for a moment, he thought she would leave. He sensed a dropping of her shoulders, but just as quickly, she lifted her chin and regarded him with confidence.

"A picnic," she announced, her voice clear and decisive. "We're going to give Ben some fun."

"Fun?" Alasdair asked, as if it were a foreign language.

"Yes. We could all use some, don't you think?"

He watched her carefully, trying to work out the cheerfulness in front of him. This woman was such a mix of emotions, and Alasdair was finding it hard to keep up. In the span of a few hours, she had gone from kissing him to sitting shyly, unable to meet his gaze. Now she was beaming at him, babbling on about sunshine and the benefits of fresh air.

"It was Orlaith's idea," Charlotte finished. "She thought it would be good for the three of us to spend time together."

There it was. The reason she was doing this. Alasdair scowled as he realized his aunt had put Charlotte up to this. That was why Charlotte was here now.

"I can't," Alasdair grumbled. He turned and walked back to his desk. "I need to get these letters sent."

Charlotte followed him inside.

"Ben's waiting for us," she said. "You can't say no."

"I just did," Alasdair said. He wasn't used to people arguing with him, but Charlotte seemed to do it any chance she got. It was incredibly irksome.

"It will only take an hour. Besides, it's the least you can do after keeping me from my breakfast this morning."

He looked up in surprise and saw her eyes flash with mischief. Was she thinking about the same things he was thinking about?

"It isnae me fault ye didnae wake early enough to eat," Alasdair returned, but he remembered how early he had sent for her. His own stomach felt hollow and empty, threatening to grumble and give him away.

"Do it for Ben," Charlotte said. It was the magic phrase she knew he couldn't say no to, and Alasdair rolled his eyes at her.

"That isnae fair," he said, but despite the words, he stood up from his desk.

"True," Charlotte agreed. "But it worked."

She raised her eyebrows in a gesture of triumph before turning with the picnic basket, clearly confident Alasdair would follow.