Obviously they both knew they had no future. She was of marriageable age, more beautiful than any lass he’d seen in the Highlands. And he’d be sailing off to sea for an indeterminate amount of time. Pledging his love and showering her with kisses would be a rakish thing to do—even though he’d acted the rake in the past, he absolutely must not act upon his lust with Divana.

They had developed some inexplicable bond, something entwined their souls. He would give his life for her, and he highly suspected she might do the same for him.

Though it couldn’t be.

He absolutely must not—would not—make promises to the lass. Doing so would only cut her to the quick when he ended up breaking those promises.

Perhaps he shouldn’t encourage her. But then teaching her to ride had been his idea. How the bloody hell was he to stop encouraging himself? Naught but a moment ago she had raised her chin and puckered her lips. He would have kissed her, and out there in the clearing of the river with no one else about, he might have gone further—much further.

*  *  *

Over and over Divana told herself she was not in love with Sir Kennan and there was no chance in Hades he was in love with her. And that meant no kissing. No gazing into each other’s eyes. No moving too close on the blanket they were sharing at the river’s edge.

Why was it she and this Highlander could be having a wonderful time, and all of a sudden it would grow serious, she’d go as mushy as porridge inside and say something daft, and then they’d end up at odds?

For the love of Saint Columba, she didn’t want to make him angry. They had but a few sennights together and then he’d be gone—off on a sea voyage to chase after Britain’s most vile pirate. Worse, he might never return. He’d nearly been killed the last time he had an altercation with the brigand. Moreover, it didn’t take a scholar to know how dangerous it was to sail the high seas, what with sea monsters and reefs that tore gargantuan holes through ships’ hulls. She’d heard the tales.

Divana choked on a bit of cheese. Clutching her throat, her face grew warm as she coughed.

Kennan immediately reached for the cup of wine and held it to her. “Are you unwell?”

Divana patted her chest, her eyes watering. She took the cup and drank greedily, swallowing down the cheese. “Thank you,” she managed in a strained voice. “I’m fine.”

He gave her a look while he tore off a bit of bread with his teeth. “You’ve grown quiet all of a sudden.”