“Hardly that, but I know when there is good in someone, and you have good in you, Rory.”
She didn’t ask about Max, and for that he was grateful, as he had no idea how to begin to explain the seething mess that was his family, nor did he want to. What he wanted was to get on a horse and far away from here.
“Don’t think I follow the model of your sweet-tempered noblemen, Kate, because the truth is far from it. I will do what is necessary to survive. Have done so.”
“I’m sure you do. Are you hungry?”
“I am always hungry, but less so at the moment.”
“Excuse me while I get someone to bring you food then.”
He grabbed her hand, not wanting her to leave.
“What is it?”
“You have to help me leave here, Kate.” He couldn’t do it alone, he knew that. But he could if she helped him. There must be a stagecoach leaving from around here soon surely? If he could just get to Dover, he could book passage back to France.
“I can’t do that.” She turned back to face him. “It is cold and unforgiving out there for anyone, but for someone who has the injury you have, it would be foolish indeed to contemplate.”
“I am an adult; if I choose to leave then I will.” His words had come out curt, but her expression did not change. It was open and honest as she looked down at him. “If you will not help me, then I will leave on my own.”
“That would be a shame, as you have just found your brother.”
“He is nothing to me.”
“Max is one of the best men I know.”
“I don’t want to speak of him.” He sounded like a petulant child but could not stop himself. His brother was an ugly, raw wound inside him that had never closed. Just thinking about the man made him irrational, but now he was here in this house somewhere. The thought filled him with panic.
“It is Christmastime, a time to spend with family—”
“He is no family of mine, and while you may live a cosseted life and believe in fairy tales and happily ever afters, I assure you I do not.”
“I don’t believe in fairy tales.” Her words were calm, and she still stood at his side, her hand on his. Rory fought the urge to grip her fingers, slide them between his, and hold her there.
What the hell was the matter with him?
“I believe in family, and I believe that we all need someone.”
“I don’t,” he snapped.
“But you—”
He grabbed her wrist and tugged her onto his body, relishing the feel of her soft weight pressed to his. Their eyes were now inches apart.
“I don’t need anyone, Kate, and sweet little girls like you need to stay away from men like me.” He’d said the words to frighten her; instead, she leaned forward, closing the small distance between them, and pressed her lips to his.
It was nothing more than a brush of lips, a comforting gesture, but it had the opposite effect on Rory. A surge of need gripped him and had him lifting a hand and wrapping it around her neck to hold her lips to his. She didn’t try to pull away as he took her mouth in a fierce kiss. It was heaven and hell. He wanted her, wanted to consume her, ravish her, and slake his lust inside her. From just a kiss, the touch of her lips to his, he was lost. How was this possible? Rory never lost control, but he could feel it creeping away from him, and that had him pushing her away.
“Why did you kiss me?”
“I am not myself.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“That’s not true.” She didn’t pull away, instead bracing a hand on his chest.
“You are a beautiful woman, what man can resist that?” He tried to sound offhand. “Even one with a bullet in his shoulder.”
“I see.” She stepped away from him. The hand she lifted to push her braid over a shoulder trembled, which made him realize it was not just he who had been affected by that kiss.
