“Stay with me.” She pulled him toward the bed, and he followed. “It’s time to make this real.”
Together they fell onto the mattress. At last, she was under him. Soft and warm and welcoming. Spreading her thighs to make a cradle for his hips and tugging at the hem of his shirt.
Belowstairs, he could still hear the men thundering from one room to the next, shouting directions to each other in their lobster search.
“You’re . . .” When her hand slipped inside his shirt, he moaned against her mouth, “You’re certain you want this now?”
“Yes. Now. Always.” Her whispered words warmed his skin and inflamed his desire. “Make me feel like you did earlier, on the dressing table. Let me do the same for you.” She pushed up the fabric of his shirt and ran her hands over his bared chest. “Logan, I want you.”
Holy God. The words were like sparks dropped into whisky. In an instant, he was afire for her. Primed to explode.
She was a grown woman, he reminded himself. She understood what this meant, and she was making her own choice.
All he had to do was seize his prize.
She held him tighter, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. The edge of pleasure was keen. He clutched her to him, sinking into the kiss.
“Just do it,” she urged, reaching between them to pull up her skirts. “Hurry. Make me yours before I can . . .”
Her voice trailed off.
But she didn’t need to complete that statement. He knew what she’d almost said.
Make me yours before I can change my mind.
A whisper of guilt moved through him. He ignored it. Running headlong toward the fear, just as he’d always told his men to do in battle.
For a glorious moment, he believed he could conquer it.
And then . . .
In an instant, it simply became too much. There was no thought in his decision. No desire or conscious intent. Just the instinct: Pull away.
The flash of hurt in her eyes was immediate. And eviscerating.
He felt like he’d glimpsed paradise by peering between the bars just as the gates were closed on him forever.
“Before you can change your mind,” he finished for her. “That’s what you almost said, isn’t it? You want me to take you here and now, before you come to your senses.” He rolled onto one elbow, breathing hard. “I dinna like the sound of that.”
She flung her arms overhead and sighed. The gesture did incredible things for her breasts. “Now you’re suddenly full of scruples?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I am.”
“Logan. This is what you wanted. What you demanded and threatened to ruin me to get.”
“You’re only upset right now because of what happened back there. I know you’re disappointed, mo chridhe.”
She reached for him. “Then make it better. It would be no sacrifice to give up my work if this were a real marriage in every sense. One with love. A family. We could have that together, Logan.”
Jesus. So now he had to promise he could be worth giving up everything for? He couldn’t do that. He didn’t know how to replace her career, a family, a community of colleagues and friends. It was impossible.
He wouldn’t be enough. She’d grow to resent him.
And then she’d leave.
“We don’t have to lie to anyone. We could make this all the truth. Tonight. Don’t you care for me at all?”
Of course he cared for her, and more than a bit. The truth was, he cared for her too much. He just couldn’t take her dreams away. Not like this.
“We’ll find another way,” he said.
It was the wrong thing to say.
“We’ve been through this, Logan. Or did you forget? You have rejected every one of my ideas. Including this one, mortifyingly enough.” She rose to a sitting position and buried her face in her hands. “I feel like such a fool.”
“I just can’t give you what you’re asking,” he said. “I’ve told you that from the start. Love and romance . . . it’s just not in me.”
“I refuse to believe that. I know that’s not true.” Her dark eyes flashed with anger. “You’re the most caring, loyal man I’ve ever known. I see it in the way you treat your men, the tenants. Even my aunt. I’m the only one who can’t seem to inspire your devotion.”
“That’s not fair. And you know it’s untrue. I would protect you with my life.”
“But I’ll never have your heart. Will I?”
He didn’t know how to answer her.
She rose from the bed and went to the dressing table. “I’m done with this. I’m done dreaming of you.” She yanked at the tartan sash draped across her torso, pulling open the luckenbooth brooch and holding it in her outstretched palm. “I want the truth. Who was she, this A.D.?”
“I’ve told you. It’s not important.”
“It’s important to me! I’ve been wearing this day in, day out. A heart--shaped lie on my chest for everyone to see. I accepted it as my due. A mark of shame that I’d brought on myself by deceiving everyone. But now I want to know the truth. Did you love her?”