“A lifetime?” She pressed her palms to his chest, creating a whisper of space between their bodies, forcing herself to think with her head and not her heart.
“I want ye with me for the rest of my days, Johanna.”
“This is so very sudden.” And oh, so very wonderful. Save for the truth that pierced her soul.
His earnest plea touched her heart. But he’d not mentioned love. Only want. That wasn’t enough. She needed more than passionate nights. She needed a man who’d crave the feel of her at his side when she was old and wrinkled and her bones creaked like Marley’s ghost rattling its chains.
Doubt pierced her, a throbbing misery deep in her soul. How desperately she wanted him. But how could she surrender her heart to him? She’d known him for such a very short time, in a time of great danger and even greater emotion. How could she trust Connor with that most vulnerable part of her? If he betrayed her, the tattered remnants of her heart might never mend.
And what of Laurel? She couldn’t keep the child from the family who loved her. And the merest thought of leaving the girl behind in America while she returned to the Highlands with Connor tore at her like a thousand tiny daggers.
Connor wanted her. But that wasn’t enough. And it never would be.
“This is all so very unexpected,” she said, little more than an anguished whisper.
“Aye, and so it was when I first laid eyes on ye. The need to keep ye safe, the need to make ye mine. Sometimes, fate offers us a gift we’d never foreseen.”
A gift we’d never foreseen. So much for his assertion that he had no talent for sweet sentiments. Not that he needed words when passion blazed in his unforgettable eyes. She took a step back, needing to put distance between them if she were to remain strong.
“Marry me, Johanna. We’ll have a grand life together.” He dipped his head and claimed her lips, the most delicious of kisses.
His caress conjured a sultry fog, engulfing them. She could scarcely think, yet alone reason, when every cell in her body longed for him. But there was no choice. Allowing him to sweep her away was a delicious prospect. But she had to protect her heart from its own foolish yearnings.
“I am so very sorry, Connor.” Pulling away from his embrace, she rushed to the door. “My answer is no.”
…
The snick of the door as it closed behind Johanna reverberated in Connor’s ears like a gunshot. A sense of disbelief descended over him as he watched her bolt from his arms and hurry from the room. She’d closed the portal quietly behind her, taking care to avoid making a scene even as she fled his presence.
Reality slammed into Connor, a brutal punch he hadn’t been able to duck. He hadn’t thought she’d leave him. Bluidy hell, he hadn’t anticipated this.
Dazed by the pain coursing through his veins, he made his way to the courtyard and stared into the night. He was alone.
As he deserved to be.
What in blazes had he expected? Had he been fool enough to believe she’d fall into his arms and never want to leave? He’d offered her little more than passion. Sweet as it was, she deserved more.
More than he could give.
And she knew it.
Hellfire and damnation, he’d spent so many years chasing precious heirlooms—so much of his life protecting Scotland’s treasures. And now, the rarest treasure he’d ever encountered was about to slip through his fingers. And there didn’t seem to be a damned thing he could do about it.
He’d never find the words to convince her to stay. From the moment she’d laid eyes on him that evening, his presence had seemed to knock her off-kilter. She’d regarded him with a coolness she didn’t attempt to hide. An icy defense infused her words. Somehow, he’d hurt her. Damned if he knew how.
He never should’ve let her go. He should’ve done whatever it took to keep Johanna and her niece in the Highlands. In centuries past, he might’ve claimed her, as MacMasters men of old had claimed their brides.
But those days were long past. And Johanna would never abide being claimed. Had she been born five centuries earlier, she still would’ve given some MacMasters ancestor the challenge of his life. The lass possessed a spirit that would never be cowed.
God, how he needed her. He craved that spark in her eyes, the delight in her smile when something struck her fancy. He savored the velvet whisper of her voice when she spoke his name in passion, and the sullen little scowl she got on her pretty face when he vexed her. He wanted her at her best and her worst, when joy filled her heart and sorrow weighted her soul. How could he face a lifetime of days and nights knowing that Johanna was an ocean away?
She wouldn’t be alone for long. Soon enough, she’d attract a man. A civilized banker or some milksop like that—a man who’d offer her a life of comfort, a stable home for the bairn, and someday, wee ones of her own to cherish. He’d be a good enough husband. Johanna would not settle for anything but a good man.