“Conscience?” Ryder echoed, lifting his eyebrows. “Ye speak of conscience? Does conscience stop ye from stealing a jam tart from the kitchen?”
“What does that even… look, Ryder, this was never real. I daenae believe for a moment that ye feel anythin’ for me, anythin’ at all. I believe that I am simply convenient.”
Yes, that was right. As she spoke, Megan felt the rightness of her words swelling in her chest. They weren’t pleasant words. It was good to think that her desire for Ryder was reciprocated.
But was itreal? No, it couldn’t possibly be. In which case, she would do well to cut things off with him now, before her feelings could turn into something. And, of course, she would have to think of her future betrothed, too.
“I suppose what I am tryin’ to say,” she said at last, her voice shaking, “is that this is nae a good idea. Ye must understand me. I think ye feel the same.”
“So what do ye want, Megan?”
She closed her eyes. “I daenae want ye to touch me again.”
CHAPTER 11
Ryder stared down at Megan,trying and failing to pull some air into his lungs. His breath was raspy, his heart beat as if it was trying to batter its way out of his chest, and he could not control the powerful, rising tide of desire.
He couldn’t remember feeling this way before. There had been other women, of course, but none of them had ever made him feel so much. None of them had made him feel soweak.
He swallowed thickly, trying to force Megan’s words into his head.
I daenae want ye to touch me again.
She didn’t sound as if she meant it. She sounded regretful. Her reasons made sense, of course. Their contract, such as it was, would end, and she would leave. She’d find somebody else. It was unlikely that a Blackwood lass wouldn’t get snapped upby somebody or other. She met his eye, and her gaze was surprisingly steady.
She wants me,he thought with a sudden intensity,but nae enough to put aside her good sense.
I admire that. It’s hardnaeto admire that.
“Very well,” he responded at last. “But let me be clear, lass.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “What further clarity could ye need?”
He gave a low chuckle. “If ye keep testin’ me, I’ll keep punishin’ ye. I cannae back down. I’m nae the sort of man who backs down. Daenae try me, because that is a battle of wills ye will nae win.”
The adorable flush on her cheeks had spread down her neck. She took a step forward, waving a threatening finger at him.
“Ye daenae ken how many battles of wills I’ve won.”
“Nay, I daenae,” he agreed. “It’s been many, I’m sure, and I have nay doubt ye will win many more. What I am sayin’, me sweet lass, is that ye willnae winthisone, so I suggest ye tread carefully.”
She spun around, pacing away while muttering something under her breath. Something that sounded likeinsufferableandannoyance. He suspected it was aimed at him.
He waited patiently for her to finish pacing, and at last she rounded on him.
“Well, then, I suggest that we forget that this ever happened,” she announced. “We put it behind us and never speak of it. Nobody kens that this happened, after all.”
“That could be sensible,” he agreed. “I ken ye have made jokes about being a captive, but ye are naetrulya captive. Ye are free to do as ye like.”
“Nae entirely free, it seems,” she muttered sourly.
“At any rate, if we can make it through these next three months without an incident, we should both be pretty happy. What do ye say? Can we do it?”
“Canyedo it, more like.”
“Ach, that’s hardly the attitude,” he responded merrily, dropping her a grin and a wink. “Well, if we have decided, we can shake hands as friends and move on. I left me horse back this way; we can reach it and get back to the Keep as soon as possible. I believe that this rain is due to get worse, if that’s at all possible.”
Megan stared at him, a faint line between her brows.
