“He’s not my betrothed, and I doubt he’d care overmuch. Sir Thomas doesn’t strike me as the jealous sort.”
Then he was a fool. Because if he had any inkling what Thom was thinking about right now, he’d have cause to be very jealous indeed.
“Maybe not,” Thom agreed. “But Randolph doesn’t strike me as a man who would like the rumors and innuendo that would follow from the woman he’s chosen for his bride being discovered alone with another man.”
Her chin took that stubborn tilt that he knew so well. “We aren’t doing anything wrong. We’re friends.”
That was all it took. He snapped, hauling her up against him. “That is shite, and you know it. There is a hell of a lot more between us than friendship. Do you need me to remind you of exactly how much more?”
Her eyes widened. “No.”
“Say it,” he practically growled. “I want to hear you say it.”
She stared up at him wide-eyed. “There is more between us than friendship.”
He let her go, realizing how close he was to losing control. How close he was to crushing her in his embrace and making her his the easy way. It took a moment for the fierce beating of his heart to slow and the lust that had curled its way through his limbs start to ebb.
She’d said it. He had his admission. Now what?
He dragged his fingers back through his hair. “Why are you really here, Elizabeth?”
She studied his face, her gaze deep and probing as it met his. “You still care for me.”
Thom felt like he was being raked over the coals all over again. Like he’d been flogged until the skin had been stripped away from his bones. Months—years—of suffering and he was right back where he started.
“Iloveyou. I’ve probably never stopped loving you. I will probably always love you. Is that what you need to hear? Does that make it better? Do you have the answers you need now?”
She looked stricken. “No... I... I don’t know.” Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes. “Why are you trying to confuse me and make this so difficult?”
Seeing the torment and struggle taking place inside her, Thom felt some of his anger and frustration dissipate. This wasn’t easy on her either. Admitting she had feelings for him would force her to contemplate things that would be scary for her. But marrying a man she didn’t love only to realize she loved another would be far worse.
In his heart he knew she loved him. He just had to make her see it. He had to make her realize that whatever difficulties they faced, whatever scorn, censure, and condemnation, wouldn’t matter if they loved each other.
Is that what he thought? He realized he did. Seeing her with Randolph had made him realize that he couldn’t stand down. He was going to fight for her—for them. No matter what the risks.
Thom wasn’t Randolph, but if all went well with the Phantoms and Bruce made him a knight she would be able to hold her head up high. He might never be “worthy” of her in society’s eyes, but he would be able to provide for her and give her the security she craved. She just needed to give him a chance.
A wave of tenderness rose inside him. He took her chin between his fingers and gently tilted her face to his. “If you are confused, it is only because you are not listening.”
“To what?”
Thom had made his decision. He wasn’t going to step back again. He was going to fight and reach for the damned stars. He was going to show her that he was the right—theonly—man for her.
“To this.” He lowered his mouth and kissed her.
Elizabeth didn’t want to hear what he was trying to tell her, but the moment his lips touched hers she felt it. The aching tenderness. The heartfelt emotion. The sweet, invisible pull that reached inside, grabbed hold, and wouldn’t let go.
This wasn’t a kiss of possession, a kiss of unfettered passion, or a kiss of mindless abandon. It was not about anger, or loss of control, or lust. It was controlled, gentle, and intended to show her exactly how he felt about her.
With each soft caress of his lips, with each slow stroke of his tongue, she felt the wave of emotion growing inside her surge higher and higher. It wrapped around her chest, coiling tighter and tighter until it almost hurt.
It did hurt. It was sharp, poignant, and so beautiful and sweet she couldn’t bear it. It made her feel things she didn’t want to feel—face feelings she wanted to escape. Feelings that overwhelmed her.
Heoverwhelmed her. The softness of his lips, the faint taste of clove on his breath, the warmth of his body radiating through the linen of his tunic. He smelled of sun and heat, which, mixed with the heather of his soap, was an intoxicating combination to her senses, lulling her deeper and deeper into his tender embrace. He cradled her against him as if she was the most precious thing in the world to him. As if this were meant to be.
You are not listening...
She didn’t want to listen. She didn’t want to feel. She didn’t want tenderness and emotion. She wanted him to do what he’d done before. To bring her more pleasure, not more confusion.
