Logan snuffed out the candles and lamp before layering more peat on the fire. Then he took his greatcoat and draped it over her.
She looked over her shoulder. “Mr. Kendrick, you’ll freeze without your coat.”
He sat down on the edge of the mattress and started pulling off his boots. “I won’t, because we’re going to share it.”
She shot up as if she’d been blasted out of a cannon, almost knocking him off the bed. “What?”
Logan winced. “Lass, you really need to stop the screeching.”
This time, she didn’t bother to apologize. “We cannot share a bed.”
“It’s that or freeze to death. And if you freeze to death, your family will murder me.”
“They would not.”
“They would. And that would mean my family would have to murder someone in your family, and then we’d have a clan feud on our hands.” He grinned at her. “Although we’d both be dead, so I suppose it wouldn’t really matter to us.”
Her lips reluctantly twitched. “Now you’re just being silly.”
“I am, but not about you freezing to death.”
“I told you, I’m perfectly f—”
“This is not up for discussion.”
She glared at him, mutinous and still shivering.
“I know you’re embarrassed,” he said gently, “and I’m truly sorry for that. But even with the fire, this cottage is going to get very cold. The only way to keep warm is for us to share the coat.”
He could practically hear the anxious debate going on in her head. He hated pushing her, but it had to be done.
“Och, well,” he said, “I can sleep in a chair, but you’ll have to take my coat.”
Her eyes went round. “But you’ll freeze without it.”
“Better me than you.”
She threw him a sour look. “Very well, you win.”
As he’d suspected, her concern for him rather than herself did the trick.
“I don’t mind,” he replied, trying to sound soulful. “If it makes you more comfortable.”
“You may cease playing the martyr, Mr. Kendrick. It’s a role for which you are very ill-suited.”
He grinned and finished pulling off his boots as she scooted to the other side of the mattress. Logan crawled onto the bed and tried to arrange the greatcoat over their bodies. She was almost falling off the other side in her effort to keep some distance between them, which meant the coat couldn’t fully cover them both.
“Comfortable, are we?” he asked.
“V . . . very.”
“Unfortunately, this doesn’t work with you way over there, Miss Haddon.”
Without waiting for her reply, he pulled her against him, fitting her into the curve of his body. She let out a startled squeak but didn’t resist as he shifted the greatcoat to cover them.
Still, she held herself rigid, muscles locked in frozen protest. The lass had a lovely body, but right now she felt as cuddly as a hitching post wrapped in a layer of wool.
“This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve found myself in a situation like this,” he said in a conversational voice.
It took her a moment to respond. “I find that hard to believe.”
Her wild curls tickled his nose. She smelled like peat smoke and fresh mountain air, and her skin carried a faint, salty tang. A sudden yearning twisted through him, and he had to resist the impulse to lean down and kiss the soft skin at the nape of her neck.
“When I was in Canada, I was stupid enough to get caught in the middle of a blinding snowstorm.”
She shivered, so he tucked her even closer. She didn’t protest.
“That sounds dreadful,” she murmured. “How did you survive?”
Logan vividly remembered Joseph Pisnet, his future partner and father-in-law, arguing against going out that day. But Logan had been foolish enough to think that growing up in the mountains of Scotland had prepared him for the wilds of Canada.
“I was lucky to have a partner who knew how to survive in such conditions. He showed me how to build a makeshift shelter and taught me the best way to keep warm.”
“Like this?” she asked in a sleepy voice.
“Yes, though the best way is to strip naked, crawl under a pile of furs, and huddle together as close as you can.”
“I’m not doing that with you, no matter how bloody cold it gets.”
He stifled a laugh. “Not necessary, in our case. But when you’re truly on the verge of freezing to death, needs must.”
“If your partner was so smart, why did he let you get into such a fix?”
“I didn’t really give him a choice. I was a hardheaded Scot, and he reckoned it was the only way I would learn.”
She fell silent, and Logan began to think she was dozing off. He, however, was wide-awake, not surprising, given the lovely, round arse curved so sweetly against his groin. And of course his blasted cock wanted to do what came naturally in the vicinity of such an enticing female.
Even if the female was entirely off-bounds.
“Did you like living in Canada?” she asked softly.
He welcomed the distraction, although the question was too complicated for a simple answer.
“It was a good challenge. I needed that.”
“So you left Scotland for the challenge?”
“Yes.”
What other answer could he give? That he’d left because he’d all but destroyed his family? That he’d betrayed his brother—his laird—in the most profound and tragic of ways? It had been years ago and Nick had fully forgiven him, but it wasn’t something Logan ever wanted to talk about.
Especially not while holding Donella in his arms. For some odd reason she made him feel . . . well, vulnerable was the best word.
“I’ve never been anywhere exciting like that, Mr. Kendrick. I wish you’d tell me about it.”
“I will, after you get some sleep.”
She gave a soft huff. “No, you won’t. You’re just like me. You don’t like to talk about yourself.”
He blinked, startled by her insight. He held himself still, mentally bracing against more questions, ones he would do his best to dodge.
When her quiet breaths evened out and she slumped against him, he exhaled a sigh of relief. Certain secrets were simply too ugly to share—especially his.
Chapter Eleven
Donella slowly began to surface. Something warm and hard surrounded her, cocooning her against the chill. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so deeply, and instinct urged her back into slumber.
Then a dazed sense of awareness bolted through her brain, and her eyes flew open. An arm was wrapped around her body, holding her against an obviously masculine chest.
Panic flooded her veins as she struggled to remember where she was, and with whom. If not for the heavy leg flung across her lower extremities, she would have shot up in an instant.
Get out of the bed, you idiot.
Donella was about to push the man away when a quiet snore sounded in her ear. She’d heard that sound before, although not in such close proximity. The arms that held her belonged to Logan Kendrick and she was snuggled under his coat, doing her best not to freeze to death. When she’d dropped off last night, too exhausted to fight the anxiety of sharing a bed with him, he’d held her with careful courtesy, trying to preserve her modesty.
Now, they were plastered together, and she could feel everything from stem to stern, including . . .
Good. God.
With that particular appendage nudging against her backside, freezing to death was no longer a problem. In fact, heat flamed across her skin like a raging fire, and she wondered if one could spontaneously combust from embarrassment.
Thankfully, Kendrick was deep in slumber, obviously exhausted from the events of the last few days. But with that heavy leg thrown over her legs, it would be almost impossible to extricate herself without waking him up.
And that would surely be as embarrassing for him as it was
for her. For all his brash ways, he was a gentleman. God only knew how he would respond if he awoke and found himself in such a state with her cuddled against him. Donella had no idea if his current physical condition was natural to the situation, but she imagined it could lead to all sorts of problems, each more disastrous than the rest.
To think that only a few weeks ago she’d been preparing to take her vows. Now she found herself in the close embrace of a man who was almost a stranger. Even worse, her body was clearly enjoying the feeling of safety and shelter in his arms.
It was an appalling reaction, of course, and meant she needed to get up right now.
Gingerly, she freed an arm and folded back the coat. Then, she started to wriggle her hips toward the edge of the mattress. It wasn’t easy, since he was a veritable giant and his leg was heavy. Still, in just a few inches she’d be able to slide free and roll to the floor, hopefully without waking him.
Before she made it, Kendrick snorted in his sleep and rolled onto his back, taking her with him. When she yelped in surprise he jerked, and then tightened his arms. Donella was now lying directly on top of him, back to front, with both his arms wrapped around her and their legs tangled together.
“Mr. Kendrick,” she hissed, now beyond embarrassment. “Please wake up and let me go.”
His breath huffed through her hair. Then he sighed, starting to finally come awake.
“Mmm, you feel good,” he murmured in a sleepy, rumbling voice as he hugged her closer.
Donella could feel her eyes bugging out of her skull. Blast the man. Why wouldn’t he wake up and realize their predicament?
She was about to stomp her heel against his shin when she heard a crunching sound from outside, and a thump near the front door. She froze, horrified.
“Donella, are you there?” called a voice she’d recognize anywhere.
“Alasdair,” she squeaked. “Don’t come—”
Kendrick suddenly shifted. “What the devil?”
The latch rattled and the door flew open. Standing in the doorway was Alasdair Gilbride, his commanding height and broad shoulders outlined by the pale light of dawn. His face was in shadow, but Donella had no trouble imagining that her cousin’s eyes were bugging out just as much as hers no doubt were.
If she could have fainted to avoid what was coming next, she would have happily done so.
Alasdair shook himself free of his brief paralysis and charged into the room.
“What the hell is going on?” he thundered, his gray eyes blazing with fury.
He reached down and grabbed Donella by the arms, lifting her straight off the bed. He plunked her down at his side and wrapped an arm around her before turning to glare at Kendrick, who’d shot up into a sitting position but was clearly still trying to get his bearings.
Alasdair took a menacing step forward. “Kendrick, if you’ve hurt Donella, I swear I will end you.”
She grabbed her cousin’s coat sleeve and gave it a shake. “He didn’t. We were just sleeping, for heaven’s sake.”
Alasdair’s baleful gaze stayed on Logan. “That doesna look like sleeping to me, ye bastard.”
When her cousin’s brogue came out, bad things tended to happen. Alasdair was the kindest of men. But when he lost his temper, the results could be unpleasant.
Kendrick swung his legs off the mattress and glared right back. “Don’t be an idiot, Gilbride. We’re on a mountain, without proper supplies, in November. We were simply trying to stay warm.”
“Bollocks. I know what I saw, ye bastard. Ye took advantage of Donella,” Alasdair snapped.
Logan swiftly rose and dragged on his greatcoat.
“If ye call me a bastard again, Gilbride, I’ll knock yer bloody teeth down yer throat.”
Splendid. Now Kendrick’s brogue was up, too.
“No one is punching anyone,” she exclaimed. “There is no reason to do so.”
“Ye were in bed together. Ye were under his coat, bloody plastered against each other like—”
Donella hauled off and smacked her cousin on the shoulder. “Cease that ridiculous brogue, Alasdair. And do not contradict me. When I say nothing happened, nothing happened.”
“Told ye,” Kendrick said with a smirk.
Donella pointed at him. “Stop talking right now.”
He opened his mouth, then clearly thought better of it.
She turned back to her cousin. “Alasdair, I promise on my honor that nothing untoward happened between us.”
“He’s a Kendrick,” her cousin scoffed. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”
“Yes, and Lord Arnprior and his brothers are your friends. You know them.”
“Which is exactly why I don’t trust them. Well, I trust Nick, but I don’t trust him. I know exactly what kind of man Logan Kendrick is.”
“It takes one to know one,” Kendrick said with typical masculine idiocy.
Just as typically, Alasdair rose to the bait. “All right, Kendrick. We’re taking this outside. Donella, you wait here until it’s finished.”
She rather wished she had a pistol, so she could shoot them both. Instead she limped over to the door and braced her hands on the doorframe.
“Be careful of your foot,” Kendrick warned.
She ignored him. “There will be no fisticuffs or dueling,” she said to her cousin.
Alasdair’s gaze went even flintier. “Get out of the way, Donella.”
“No.”
“Best do as he says, lass,” Kendrick said. “I won’t have him insulting your virtue.”
“My virtue is not insulted. Besides, Alasdair is my relative. He’s allowed to be stupid.”
Her cousin bristled. “I am not being stupid.”
“Actually, insulted isn’t quite right,” Kendrick said, frowning. “Impugned is more accurate.”
Donella wished the chamber pot was within throwing distance. “It’s not up to you or Alasdair to decide if my virtue has been impugned. Or insulted. Or anything.”
“No, it’s up to Grandfather,” Alasdair said. “And he’ll not be best pleased to hear about this.”
He waved an arm to take in their disheveled state, as if that explained everything.
“There is no reason for him to know about it,” she said. “Unless you can’t keep your bloody mouth shut.”
Her cousin’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, that’s a splendid way for a nun to talk.”
“I am not a nun anymore!”
Her outburst shocked Alasdair into silence. Kendrick was beginning to look amused, but for once he had the sense to keep quiet.
She pressed her palms against her eyes, reaching deep inside for patience.
“Donella?” Alasdair asked in a cautious voice.
She dropped her hands. “Cousin, there is no reason for Uncle Riddick or anyone else to find out that Mr. Kendrick and I were forced to spend a night alone together.”
“Two nights, actually,” Kendrick added.
He was very lucky the chamber pot was beyond reach. “Only for a few hours the first night, and you slept on the floor.”
“Two nights on the road, without a chaperone?” Alasdair sighed. “Who else saw you?”
“No one recognized me.”
“How is that possible?”
“I was dressed as a boy, travelling as Mr. Kendrick’s little brother.”
Her cousin finally seemed to notice what she was wearing. Then he glared at Kendrick. “And no one saw through this incredibly inept excuse for a disguise?”
“It’s not inept,” she protested.
The men ignored her.
Kendrick waggled a hand. “It wasn’t exactly foolproof. The men who were pursuing us certainly figured it out.”
“Then Donella’s reputation is on the brink of ruin,” Alasdair said. “If this gets out—”
“It won’t as long as we keep our mouths shut,” she snapped. “And deny everything, if necessary.”
Her cousin shot her an exasperated look. “I’ve got four
of my men outside this cottage, keeping watch. They will certainly deduce that you and Kendrick were alone.”
Kendrick sank down on the bed and scrubbed a weary hand over his head. It made his already-messy hair stand straight up. “Of course you brought men with you. I asked you to bring men with you.”
“Four witnesses,” Alasdair said.
Donella pressed her palms flat on the door, sudden panic making her dizzy. “Is Fergus out there?”
Her brother would kill Logan—or force him to marry her at the point of a pistol.
“No, I sent him north along the road to Perth, just in case you’d had to double back.”
“You must never tell him about this, Alasdair. You know what he’s like.”
“Better than anyone,” he dryly replied.
When Alasdair refused to marry her, Fergus had challenged him to a duel.
Kendrick muttered something under his breath before exchanging a fraught glance with Alasdair.
“Well?” her cousin said to him in a challenging tone.
Kendrick let out another sigh and rose to his feet.
“What just happened?” Donella warily asked.
“Alec wants to know if I’m going to do the right thing by you, which I am.”
Donella gaped at him.
“Good,” Alasdair said. “I’ll leave it to you as to how to approach the issue with my grandfather.”
“Very, very carefully,” Kendrick replied.
Donella finally picked her jaw off the floor and pushed back. “Absolutely not. I will not be forced into this situation again. Not with Mr. Kendrick, not with anyone.”
“Lass, be reasonable,” her cousin said. “You remember the storm of gossip after we decided to break our betrothal. This will be ten times as bad.”
She limped up to him and jabbed him in the chest. “We decided to break our betrothal? My role in that decision, you’ll recall, was to walk into the library the night of our engagement party to find you on the sofa with Eden, with your hand up her skirt.”
Alasdair turned bright red. “It wasn’t that bad.”
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