Chapter Ten
“Ineed to get meself under control,” Lucas muttered, tossing aside his quilt and rising from the sheets. He tossed them back over the mattress before shuffling to the center of the room. He ran a hand through his hair as he scoffed. “This is nae befittin’ of a laird.”
Restless energy coursed through him, and his mind refused to quiet. It had been loud ever since he walked away from the training grounds. Climbing into bed hadn’t done a thing to erase it. Though he supposed he could have anticipated this outcome.
His footsteps echoed in the quiet of his quarters as he began to pace, circling the room. The fire crackled away on the far wall, its heat caressing him as he passed. The soft, supple weight of Flora’s breast was a ghost in his hand. It flexed mindlessly at his side, almost like he was still touching her.
As the urge to keep her safe warred with the desire he hadn’t asked for, Lucas threw on his trews. As he shoved his feet intohis boots, he cursed under his breath. Surely, this was because it had been years since he’d touched a woman.
But it feels as if it’s somethin’ much different.
He yanked his door open with more force than entirely necessary, needing some sort of outlet for the crackling beneath his skin. It felt so similar to the sleepless nights he’d spent after he’d lost his son and his wife.
A walk in the cool evening air would clear his mind. When thoughts of Leo plagued him or the memory of his late wife’s blame was too strong to ignore, this had always been the solution. And it had been a long time since he’d needed a distraction so badly.
“Lucas?”
That voice. The sweet, unexpected melodic sound only made his restraint stretch thinner. When his eyes landed on Flora’s form, something in him snapped. He went still, knowing that if he got any closer, he wouldn’t be able to control himself.
“Are ye feelin’ well?” she asked, taking half a step back. Her eyes were wide, dark pools that reflected the dancing torchlight of the corridor. “Ye seem… tense. Did somethin’ happen?”
The dressing gown she wore clung to her body, showing off the slight curve of her waist much better than any of the borrowed dresses. The material was thin, airy. Her chest rose and fell witheach shaky breath she took. His eyes tracked the movement of her tongue as it wet her bottom lip nervously.
Even as he moved forward, Lucas saw the way terror leaked into her features. She shrunk in on herself, her body tensing as she prepared for a blow. But that wasn’t his intention. That wouldneverbe his intention with her.
“What,” he growled, the words strained as he caught her wrist, his grip firm but not crushing, just strong enough to keep her from running, “are ye doin’ out so late?”
“I—” she squeaked, tensing and making an aborted attempt to pull her hand back. She swallowed hard, looking as if she were trying to force herself to relax. “I thought I heard somethin’. I was just goin’ to check. I?—”
“Flora,” he said, his grip on her wrist tightening as he caged her in further. The conflict in his head, the drive to protect her, flared. “Ye shouldnae be goin’ out to investigate strange noises. I willnae allow someone in me castle to harm ye, but ye can never ken who’s lurkin’ around at night.”
Ye may run into someone like me.
“I understand,” she said, her body tensing further. Still, she didn’t try to pull away, instead accepting his grip and his intensity. “I just…”
“What do ye think would have happened to ye if ye were caught unaware?” he asked, getting even closer, so near her now that he could feel how warm her body was. “I would find ye. Daenae doubt that for a single moment. I told ye I would keep ye safe, and I wouldnae say somethin’ I didnae mean. But nay one would ken what happened to ye until the mornin’.”
A strangled sound escaped her as her hand twitched fruitlessly in his grip. Lucas’ free hand found her waist. He moved impossibly closer to her, their chests nearly touching, her back flush against the wall.
“I would hate for ye to have to watch me kill a man, Flora.”
This time, she jerked, her foot sliding forward. The fear, the noises, and the way she was looking at him as though he were a monster finally brought him out of his head. He released her, breathing hard as he attempted to put space between the two of them, hating himself for losing control.
It was too late, though. In her frantic struggle, she lost her balance, her feet sliding on the smooth stone floor. As her body tilted forward, he planted himself more firmly as he prepared to right her when she stumbled, apologize for his behavior, then continue on his walk.
“Lucas…” she murmured, frozen in place.
She had fallen into him, the softness of her breasts pressing into the hard line of his chest. The feeling of her against him like this was even more intoxicating than the touch he’d gotten earlierin the day. To make matters worse, she didn’t move away. It seemed as if the shock of the interaction had stolen her ability to move.
“Flora,” he responded, barely holding back the animalistic desire that coursed through him. “I daenae ken anyone that falls as often as ye have today.”
“I…” she started, trailing off but staying stubbornly close.
Another growl tore from him, and he sounded every bit the predator he felt when he said, “Ye really shouldnae test me control like this, Flora.”
“What…” she began, drawing a long and shuddering breath. She still didn’t step back, unaware of the challenge she was presenting. “What do ye mean?”
“This nightgown,” he grunted, putting a hand on her waist, intending to push her away. His grip stayed there, and it was as if he couldn’t bring himself to break the contact, intoxicated by just how much he was liking this. “This slip of fabric, it leaves nothin’ to the imagination. I can feel everythin’.”
