The word willing slid through him with an entirely different meaning. He opened the gate and moved away from her, using the mare as a means of repressing the desire she’d conjured. Did she even understand what she was doing? Was she trying to push him closer to the edge?
“Why would I be?” Without waiting for an answer, he went inside the stables and brought out a brush to tend to the mare. Though he’d already taken care of Ivory earlier, he was looking for any distraction.
“Because I think I know something you do want.” She opened the gate, following him. “And it’s something I could give to you.”
Violent heat roared through him. His lust-filled imagination provoked him with images of her silken skin, her eyes filled with desire.
And yet, when he turned to her, he saw naught but innocence in her eyes.
“Go back to the others,” he warned. She had no idea how much he desired her, how his control was stretched to breaking point. “I want nothing from you.”
“I meant only—” Her fingers touched his, and that was all it took to snap the thread of restraint. Dougal pressed her back against the wooden fence, his hands around her waist. Leaning in, he snarled, “I’m not feeling very honorable right now. I said you should go.”
Most women would have fled at that very moment. She looked frightened, but instead of leaving, she whispered, “I would offer you a horse. A stallion to breed with your mare.”
Her words penetrated the cloud of desire thrumming in his veins. A horse, she’d said. Not herself.
“There are no Arabians this far north.”
“My husband had one,” she murmured. “It was given to him last year. He’s black, with a white star on his forehead.”
“Is that what you think I want?” He had to know her purpose, and from the sudden confusion on her face, he suspected it was.
“Isn’t it?” The question hovered between them, and when her lips pressed together, he grew suddenly aware that she had not tried to push free of him. Instead, she’d remained trapped in his embrace, as if she, too, wanted him.
“Your mare is important to you,” she whispered. “I only thought you might want another horse like her.”
“The horse isn’t yours to give,” he warned. No one alive would let a valuable war stallion go, not because of a woman’s wishes.
“I keep my promises,” she said. “And if you will help me find a way to keep my sister safe, the horse will be yours. If you want him.”
Her hands moved to rest upon his chest. Aye, he did want a horse to breed with Ivory. She was a lovely mare and would make a good dam, with the right sire for her foals.
“Why me?” he demanded. “Such a horse is worth more than a chest of silver.” That, he knew well, for he’d paid nearly that much for Ivory.
“What I would ask of you is not an easy thing.” Her hands came up to his face, as if there were not two years of distance between them. As if she’d conjured up the past, reminding him of how she’d ensnared him.
The soft caress was his undoing. Pressing himself close to her, Dougal growled, “You don’t ken what you’re doing, lass.”
“No,” she whispered. “I know exactly what I’m doing.” And she lifted her mouth to his, kissing him softly.
From the moment Celeste kissed him, she tasted the tension in Dougal's body. Like a frosted pane of ice, he didn’t respond to her kiss at all. Her cheeks burned, for she’d thrown herself at him, only to find that he didn’t want her. Her embarrassment went so deep, she was drowning in it. She pulled back immediately, wishing she’d never given in to impulse.
There was no love remaining within him. Not even desire, it seemed.
“What was that for?” he demanded, his face rigid. In his dark eyes, she saw suspicion and a glimpse of a man who would not allow anyone to break past his invisible boundaries.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I—I thought—”
I thought we could go back to the way it was before. But how terrible was it to find that he didn’t desire her? That she had misread him and was wasting her time with a man who would not yield to a moment of madness?
“You were wrong, Celeste.” His voice slid over her with the dark trace of danger. She expected him to release her, to push her aside even. But instead, he kept his hands on either side of her, leaving her trapped against the fence. She lifted her eyes to his, and in his expression, she saw wariness.
“You tempted me,” she admitted. “I wanted to know if it would be the same as before.”
But it wasn’t. Not anymore.
Dougal used his height to intimidate her, and she grew well aware that this man was not one who would let a woman make demands of him. His dark hair hung below his shoulders, and though he was lean, she sensed that every inch of him was hardened with muscle. If she tried to seduce him, he would be very different from her husband. The thought sent a prickling rush through her skin. “It will never be like it was before.”
