And he nearly exploded.
But he wouldn’t go back on his word. Though the thought of weeks apart made him physically ache, he wouldn’t risk what little trust he’d built between them. He had a lifetime ahead to touch her, to make love to her—when she was ready. And he had no doubt she’d be ready eventually, maybe even soon…
But bloody hell, it was so hard to wait.
For long minutes, he just kissed her. His own hands remained still while hers wandered his back, skimmed his sides, frantically tried to wedge themselves between their bodies. His nerves rippled in response, but still he only kissed her. Forever, it seemed, until he felt her straining toward him and a mewling sound of want escaped her lips.
“Trick?” she asked breathlessly, the name warm against his mouth.
“Hmm?”
“Can you not…touch me?”
He pulled back and gazed into glassy light-green eyes. “Nay, I cannot,” he said, though he had to force the words past his lips. “Should I touch you, I may not be able to help doing more. And I promised I wouldn’t seduce you in bed.” He teased her lips with his. “But you like the kissing, aye?”
Her hands tightened in the hair at his nape. “Oh, heavens, yes. I like it. I just want—”
“Hmm?” His tongue traced her trembling mouth. Let her ask for it. “What do you want,leannan?”
“I…I don’t know,” she whispered, burying her face against his neck.
“You know,” he said softly. “We both know. Say it, Kendra.”
Instead of saying it, she took a ragged breath and released it with a shudder.
“It won’t hurt, lass. It was just that first time, I promise. It won’t ever hurt again.”
Kendra felt the words, the promise, vibrate in his throat. She ached for him—truly she did. But what good were promises from a man she couldn’t trust? And even if he were right—even if it wouldn’t hurt—how could she share her body with a man who refused to share his life?
She was touching him now, but she wasn’t really. Her hands were upon his body, but she had yet to reach him where it counted. A barrier stood between them, and she couldn’t bring herself to risk the crossing.
He had built it. He would have to be the one to bring it down.
“What do you want?” he asked again.
“I want—” She turned her head away, staring up at the underside of Trick’s red silk canopy. Not hers. No matter how many times he insisted that what was his was hers as well, she didn’t feel that way in her heart. Not while he kept the most important thing of all from her.
Himself.
“I want to go to sleep,” she whispered.
He trailed his fingers lightly across her cheek. “One more kiss?”
“I think…no,” she said on a sigh. Another kiss would only make her more sad, and the lump in her throat was hard to bear already. She rolled away from him, turning her back. “Good night,” she whispered.
The words seemed to hover in the heavy air of the still room.
After a moment he snuggled against her, and she could feel the hardness that said without words just how much he wanted her. “Do you think you might miss me, lassie?”
A groan rose from a place where she ached deep inside, and he went to sleep with a smile on his face.
She knew, because after his breathing evened out in the pattern of slumber, she turned and gazed upon him, filling herself with the sight of him to hold her through the weeks ahead.
It took her longer than ever to drift off that night, and when she awakened, he was gone.
Twenty-Seven
“MRS. KENDRA?”
