He had moved the empty food tray aside and was inching closer to her, she realized. Warmth tingled under her skin, the whisky quickly running through her veins and heating her blood. She desperately wanted to touch him, but she’d been raised to be a modest lass—at least in some ways.
She’d had suitors, but no one had much interested her, until now. Her boyish, countrified suitors were nothing like Maxwell White.
“Aye,” he said. “Two brothers. Both younger.”
“I never had a brother, or a sister,” she said, sighing. “Well, I suppose I did. Two sisters… but they died at birth.”
“I’m sorry for that. I canna imagine life without my brothers.”
“Having no family…” She looked away from him. “It can be lonely sometimes.”
“And your parents are gone… Died two years ago from plague, was it?”
“How do you ken so much about me?” she asked, stiffening.
“We needed to learn all we could about you once we knew Sutherland was after you.”
She frowned. She didn’t like that. Didn’t like people she didn’t know digging into her past, learning about her parents.
“Do ye miss them?” he asked softly. He cupped her cheek in his palm, turning her to face him.
His palm was warm and strong and soft, and she couldn’t help herself. She leaned into it and closed her eyes. “Yes. I miss them. I miss them terribly.”
His mouth touched hers, soft and warm, and she sighed against him.
“Aila,” he murmured, his lips moving against hers. “You’re so bonny. I havena…” He pulled back and dropped his hand, and she opened her eyes. He stared at her with a look that made tingles shudder under her skin. She grabbed onto his shirt, fisting the fabric in her hands, and he made a low noise in his throat. “Dinna test my control, lass.”
A thrill of fear rushed through her, but it wasn’t the kind of fear she’d experienced when she’d thought he was going to hurt her. This was a different animal altogether.
“What if,” she asked softly, “I want to test it?”