Highland Hawk: Highland Brides #7 by Lois Greiman

voice, as if his thoughts had been far away.
    She was here on a mission, she reminded herself. Nothing else. And regardless of the power in his arm or the gentleness in his hand, she did not know him well. Indeed, he might be Blackheart himself. Therefore she had best keep her head now or lose it forever. "I asked about the scar on your hand."
    He turned it distractedly upward to stare at it. " 'Tis naught. Lass—" He reached for her as if to draw her chin upward again, but at the last second, he drew back. "I would know what had you spooked."
    A thousand possible lies skimmed through her mind. But his gaze was as steady as the falcon for which he was named. And a lie did not seem wise.
    The scar beside his eye dipped. "Is someone bothering you?"
    She remembered Fayette's moans, Matthew's hoarse poetry. The memories were liable to bother her for some time—though perhaps inappropriately. For while she should have been repulsed, her skin still felt flushed, her senses overwrought from the sound of their husky voices.
    "Surely you can see, Sir Hawk," she began, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in the pit of her being, "this matter is something I've no wish to discuss."
    " 'Tis my task to guard the king," he said. "And I cannot do this if I am unaware of the goings-on of the castle."
    "Must you know everything that transpires at Blackburn?"
    " 'Tis my preference."
    "Every clandestine... joining?"
    For a moment he seemed stunned to silence, then, "You witnessed—"
    "Aye." She interrupted him before he could voice the embarrassing truth.
    "Oh."
    She cleared her throat and tried to think of somewhere to look, but there was nothing to see but him. "Oh, indeed."
    His presence seemed to fill the entire room, and she saw that he was as uncomfortable as she. Lifting a hand, he rubbed his chest as if easing some half-forgotten wound, and when her gaze fell there, she realized that she could indeed see the end of a whitish scar that pointed directly to his heart.
    "Blackburn Castle is..." He paused. " 'Tis a far shot from a monastery. I try to keep young James isolated from such things, but 'tis difficult."
    "Are you speaking of your own behavior or others'?"
    The question fell into the heat of the room like tinder on flame.
    "I am the captain of the king's royal guard," he said. "My post keeps me quite busy."
    'The two I saw seemed quite busy."
    His eyes were deadly steady, his brows low, but his lips quirked slightly.
    "Are you inquiring about my carnal experiences, lass?"
    No. Maybe. Yes. Good Lord, what was wrong with her? The room seemed strangely airless, their gazes tied.
    "Have a care who you hone your flirtations on, lass," he said, his voice a midnight rumble in the dim room.
    "Are you so dangerous then?"
    "Nay. I am so old. My heart may be unable to bear the strain."
    He looked as tough as a scared oak, as intriguing as a winding trail. She almost laughed at his description of himself, but the sound would not quite leave her throat.
    "Not so old, I think," she murmured.
    He reached out and ever so slowly, as if he tried to stop himself, stroked the backs of his fingers against her cheek. A dozen unwanted emotions swamped her—desire and hope and host of others she could not even name. She closed her eyes to the sweet brush of his caress, but in that second a rustle of sound came from the doorway.
    Hawk yanked his hand away, then pivoted jerkily toward the noise. "Physic." His tone seemed to carry an unwarranted relief. "The lass has been wounded. I leave her jn your care." Without another word, he dropped the cloth on the table and strode from the room.

Chapter 5
    Haydan paced the confines of his bedchamber. It was a small room, comfortable but humble. Long ago, he had been offered more elegant quarters, but he had found that he could not relax there—for the greater the distance from the king, the more his nervousness increased.
    Now he resided less than fifty feet from James's bedroom door, and yet he felt as high