Seeing her hurt, he softened his tone. “I'm sure they don't mean to, but it does not change the fact that they have taken advantage of you.” He paused. “Haven't you sacrificed yourself on the altar of duty long enough?”
Lizzie's head was spinning. He was confusing her, making her see ambiguity where there was none. She enjoyed her duties. It was only sometimes, when she was tired, that everything suddenly felt so overwhelming.
“You act as if duty is a foul word,” she said. “But it's not all about sacrifice, it's something you do for the greater good or because it's the right thing to do. My family is important to me. Is there nothing that matters to you?”
His eyes flashed, but he ignored her question. Patrick was unrelenting—in this as on the battlefield. He cupped her chin and stared deeply into her eyes. “Is it the right thing to do, Elizabeth? Do you not deserve to make your own choice?”
In a husband.She knew what he meant. She searched his face, heart pounding. “It is my duty to marry where my family wishes.”
“Haven't you done enough? Or do you need to tie yourself to a man you don't want as well to satisfy them?”
She bristled. “You presume much. How do you know I don't want him?”
A dangerous glint fired in his gaze. She realized her error: He'd taken her words as a challenge. He stepped closer to her, moving her back until she was pressed against the stone wall. He braced himself over her with one hand on either side of her shoulders.
Her breath hitched and her pulse quickened, reverberating through her body until her skin seemed to beat with life. His heat warmed her. His scent intoxicated her—a heady combination of soap and freshly washed male skin with the faint scent of pine that made her think he bathed in a forest. He leaned closer to her, until only inches separated them. The look on his face …
He terrified her. But not with fear.
He's going to kiss me.She held her breath, knowing that she would not refuse him.
But at the last minute his mouth moved to her ear, his breath sweeping over her in a warm whisper. “Because you want me.”
Blast the arrogant brute! And blast him doubly for being right.
But she couldn't forget the hurt. “And what of you, Patrick? Will you marry again? Or perhaps you've already found someone?”
His gaze burned into hers, knowing that something was behind her words. “What do you mean?”
Her eyes heated with the anger and hurt that had been held inside her for too long. “Your trips to the village have not gone unnoticed.”
A look of confusion crossed his too-handsome face. “What does my going to the village have to do with us?”
“I know there are women—”
He swore and gripped her arm, jerked her up against his chest. “Who put such nonsense in your head?”
She didn't say anything, her throat hot and tight from the ball of tears constricting it.
“Finlay,” he said flatly. She looked at him in surprise. “ ’Tis no secret that he despises me, but I am surprised that you listened to his venom.”
“It's not too difficult to believe. You are a man.”
“Aye,” he said softly. “But I've not had another woman, Elizabeth.”
Her heart faltered. Her eyes shot to his, not daring to believe … He cradled her cheek tenderly in his big hand.
“How can I when I want someone else?”
He hasn't been with a woman … he wants me.
His thumb swept over her bottom lip as he contemplated her mouth. He lowered his face to hers, their mouths separated by only a hairbreadth. Close enough that she could taste the spiciness of his breath on her tongue. Her body pulsed with need, desperate for the pressure of his mouth on hers. She could lift up and …
He pulled back suddenly—cruelly. His fingers cupped her chin, tipping her head back to meet his cool, piercing gaze.
“But it cannot be, isn't that right, Elizabeth?”
“I—” Her breath caught. Could it?
