“Thatmuch Idobelieve and could easily judge for myself.” Ruari winced andsmoothed his hand over the still-raw scar on his abdomen. “Mayhap ye could tellLady Sorcha that I think I may have done my wounds some harm. “He met Iain’sdisgusted look with a smile and, after the youth left, waited tensely to see ifSorcha would respond to his ploy.
“Hedoesnae expect us to believe that, does he?” grumbled Robert when Iain repeatedRuari’s complaint about his injuries. He scowled at Sorcha. “Ye arenae thinkingof going in that room, are ye?”
Sorchasighed and lightly rubbed at her temples as indecision began to make her headache. “Robert, I love you dearly and I ken that ye only have my weelbeing inmind when ye speak so bluntly. Howbeit, I am twenty now, Robert.” She turned tolook at him. “All of my life I have stepped so verra carefully, a close eyekept to duty. I dutifully learned all of my lessons and dutifully took on theburden of being the lady of Dunweare. For all of my admittedly few adult yearsI have dutifully tried to keep Dougal’s recklessness from harming Dunweare. Ihelp my aunts. I help my cousins. I help the people who depend upon the Haysand Dunweare. I could continue until your eyelids are weighted closed withboredom. Mayhap, Robert, I am past due a wee bit of recklessness myself.”
“Aye,ye are,” said Iain, grabbing his father by the arm and tugging him away.
AlthoughRobert looked startled, then annoyed, he made no attempt to break free of Iain’shold and allowed his son to lead him away. Sorcha turned to stare at the doorto Ruari’s bedchamber. She took a deep breath to steady herself and reached forthe door latch. Instinct told her that the moment she entered the room shewould be making a decision.
Chapter Eight
Ruarisat up and smiled when Sorcha entered the room. He quickly recalled that he hadmade a complaint about his wounds so he winced and lightly rubbed his scar.Sorcha stood by the side of his bed, her hands on her slim, shapely hips. Thelook on her face told him that she was not fooled by his ploys. He felt hishopes rise, even though a small voice in his head struggled to recall him tothe possibility that she could simply have come to confirm her own suspicions,not to fall into his arms.
“Ithink I may have pulled something,” he murmured, trying to look pained, butknowing by the disgusted look on her face that he was failing miserably.
“Aye,ye try to pull my leg, or at least attempt to tug upon my sympathies,” shegrumbled even as she dutifully checked his wounds. “Ye still heal with anastounding speed.” She gave a soft cry of surprise when he curled one strongarm about her waist and tugged her down on top of him. “Healing is clearly notall ye do with undo haste.”
“Haste?”He wrapped his other arm around her, holding her just tightly enough to stillher attempts to squirm free. “We have kenned each other for many weeks.”
“Notso many that ye should feel so free to force your lewd attentions upon me.”
“Thatwas spoken with an almost believable piety and outrage.”
“Yetye apparently dinnae believe that I mean it.”
Hebrushed light kisses over her softly flushed cheeks. “Not as deeply as ye wouldlike me to think ye do.” When the tension of resistance began to leave herslender body, he moved his hands to gently cup her face. “Ye could don a nun’sgarb and fair glow with the light of piety and innocence as ye intone poetic,heartrending words of denial, but it wouldnae change the fact that your passionmatches mine.”
Hisarrogance annoyed her almost as much as his feather-soft kisses enflamed her.The fact that he was right only annoyed her more. She could speak beautifullyof what was right and proper and demand that he treat her as the wellbornvirgin she was, but the words would be empty ones. She wanted to be held closeto his large, strong body. She wanted his kisses and his touch. Her denials anddemands to be released were born of the remnants of honor and pride, but behindthem lurked hypocrisy.
Intruth, honor, pride, and a sense of propriety had very little to do with herconstant denials. Her nays were born of fear, a fear of being hurt. She wantedto taste the passion he offered, but knew that her heart could easily be tornapart. Sorcha was not confident that she had the strength to risk so much onwhat appeared to be an already lost cause—his love.
“Ithink ye forget who is the prisoner here, Sir Kerr,” she said, hoping thatreminding him of his humiliation would make him angry enough to push her away,thus relieving her of the need to make any weighty decisions.
“Oh,nay,” he replied, touching a kiss to the hollow behind her ear, and smilingagainst her skin when she shivered. “And ye must ken that, somehow, someday, Iwill make ye pay for this. Howbeit, this flame we spark within each other is athing apart from that. ‘Tis a thing that makes us equals for it holds us both captive.”
“‘Tisalso a thing ye could use to wreak your revenge against me.” Just speaking ofsuch a possibility aloud was enough to send chills down Sorcha’s spine.
“Nay,never. As I have said, our passion is something apart from all else that existsbetween us. I am not a mon to use passion in such devious ways. Nor am I a monto promise anything simply to have my way with a lass. I detest such games.”
“Isuspect ye dinnae need to make use of them either,” she whispered as she staredinto his rich green eyes, their color made all the more intriguing by thedesire he made no attempt to hide.
“Iwould rather be celibate than entangle myself in such lies and ploys.”
“Ah,so it isnae concern for a lass’s feelings that keeps ye so honest, but a desireto protect yourself from troublesome women wailing loudly about broken promisesand vows ye have neglected to honor.”
“Yedinnae have much faith in your fellow mon, do ye?”
“Whyshould I have much faith in a mon who tells me plainly that he means to seekrevenge against me?”
“BecauseIdidtell ye plainly.”
Thatmade a strange sense, Sorcha mused, even as she arched her head back to allowhim free access to her vulnerable throat. She knew she wanted to believe himalthough he often said things she did not wish to hear. If she could trust inhis word, it somehow made it more acceptable to become his lover. At least thenshe would only appear foolish for trying to capture a man who bluntly told herhe only sought her passion, and not become the object of pity because she wasseduced by flattery and false promises.
Shestruggled to keep her mind sharp enough to think straight, but it wasincreasingly difficult. Ruari’s big hands moving slowly up and down her sides,his thumbs brushing the side curves of her breasts, made her thoughts cloudy.The only thing she was sure of was how much she wanted him. The only words shecould hear clearly in her head were the words of advice given to her by others—“takeall ye can now, take the chance now, or ye will be forever sorry.”
“Ishall delight in heartily thrashing my wayward brother when he returns,” shemuttered.
“Whatdoes your brother have to do with this?” Ruari teased at her lips with tiny,nibbling kisses.
