She dropped the emerald and it bounced against her bodice. Her entire body stiffened as she looked up and stared out toward the pier. Slowly she turned, disbelieving what she’d heard and what she was seeing.
Standing before her, in the flesh, was Aes.
It’d been nearly a decade since she’d last seen him. He’d aged since then, growing into his man’s body, his face more sophisticated. His soft brown hair, long and wavy, blowing in the wind. She remembered him as a gangly youth. An adolescent who’d yet to gain control of his limbs, and here he stood, filled out and broad. Handsomer than she remembered. A man who could break hearts.
“Aes?” she murmured.
“In the flesh.” He flashed her a grin and held out his arms.
“What are ye doing here?” She frowned, feeling completely out of sorts, her feet rooted to the deck.
“I’m going to France with the prince.” His arms dropped to his sides, and the vibrant smile faded.
“What about your wife?”
He looked away a moment. “She’s no longer with us.”
“Oh,” she said, swallowing hard. “I’m so sorry.” And she genuinely was. She didn’t know what she’d do if Brogan were to… She couldn’t even think about it.
“And I heard ye were married. Where is your husband?”
“We were no’… It was no’ official.” It was an effort to speak smoothly when her throat felt so tight.
There was a spark of interest in Aes’s eyes, his chin notching up slightly. Here standing before her was the man she’d craved for years. The man who’d broken her heart when he’d chosen another. This was a chance to try again. The look in his eyes made it clear he was interested. That all she had to do was walk into the arms he’d held open moments ago.
However, the very thought of it had a knot of resistance rising in her throat. Aes had been everything she used to want. But not anymore.
Everything she wanted was not on this ship at all—save Milla, who was barking toward the shore as if to shout out to Brogan that she would try to change Fiona’s mind. That Fiona had made a mistake. Every limb felt heavy with remorse and grief.
Aes took a step forward, held out his arms again. “I’ve missed ye,” he said.
“I have missed ye as well, my friend.” She stepped into his arms, the weight of his embrace going around her.
There was a measure of comfort in his hug, one she remembered from years ago. He might have aged, even grown an inch or two taller, but he still smelled the same, sounded the same.
Once she would have given anything to have his arms around her, to be in this spot for the rest of her life, but now her heart was pulled in another direction. Dark eyes flashed before her. A roguish glimmer. Oh, Brogan…
Fiona stepped back. “When are we setting sail?” she asked dejectedly.
“I presume it to be any moment. Have ye been shown to your cabin yet?”
Fiona shook her head and turned to the rail, sliding her hand over Milla’s head and looking back down the pier where Brogan stood with his men in deep conversation.
That knot in her throat rose, nearly choking off her breath.
“Come, Fiona, let me give ye a tour of the ship,” Aes said, his fingers dancing over her elbow.
She glanced down at his hand, back up at his handsome face, and all the years since she’d met him flashed before her eyes. There was still a place for Aes in her heart, but in a different corner. A friend. A confidant.
There was only one man now who consumed her love, her life, her future.
And she’d turned her back on him. Her gaze went back toward the pier. Brogan was mounting his horse.
* * *
“Let’s go,” Brogan said.
But with the first few steps of his mount, Milla’s barking grew louder, until he could have sworn the dog was getting closer.
He stopped his horse and turned around in time to see Milla’s wagging tail and flapping tongue as she jumped around his horse’s hooves.
“Milla?” He grimaced. So Fiona had decided to abandon the dog after all. God, that hurt more than anything.
Who was the woman he’d loved? For he’d certainly built her up in his mind to be someone she wasn’t.
“Brogan.” His name was a breathless shout, and he turned to see Fiona running toward him.
He blinked. Disbelieving what he saw. “Fiona?”
A mirage. A trick of the mind.
But she kept coming toward him.
Brogan leapt down from his horse, taking slow, measured steps toward her. Afraid if he moved too fast, she’d disappear. Was this where she was going to tell him she needed him to keep Milla? Wish him well and then break his heart again?
He’d been devastated to let her go once already. He loved her so damn much, though, that he was willing to do it again. Willing to suffer for her happiness. But why did she have to come back and torture him when he’d barely had a moment to heal at her choice?
Fiona pulled up short, two feet away from him, tears dancing in her eyes, her face awash with devastation, the same as he felt inside.
“I wish I could make myself live a life without ye, but I canna. I need ye, Brogan.”
Brogan swallowed. Opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
“I canna go to France without ye, and if ye willna go to France, then I willna go. I belong here. In Scotland, with ye, fighting for the cause from the ground. Not across the sea.” She waved her hand somewhere behind her. “I made a mistake walking away.”
“I dinna want ye to go,” he said softly, baring his heart to her. “I want ye to stay. I should never have said that I wanted ye to leave. Because it was a lie.”
“I’m no’ going.” She stepped closer. Close enough he could reach for her.
“I’ll go with ye if ye want. I just want to be with ye,” he said, not having thought about the words coming out of his mouth at all, his heart doing all the talking. “I love ye, Fiona. I want ye to be happy. But I want to be happy with ye.”
She shook her head. “We will stay here. Our work is better done here, not in some foreign court.” Fiona closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love ye too much to just walk away.”
How could he have ever doubted her love for him?
“I’m sorry,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. Emotion swirled inside him in a torrent so powerful, he thought she might feel the vibrations. “Can ye forgive me?”
“Ye had every right to doubt the moment I turned my back. Dinna blame yourself for that. I’ve walked away enough times since we met for ye to believe it true. But I swear from this moment forward, I will never walk away again.”