But he was already replacing his tunic, his movements jerky. “Och, lass, I cannae do this with ye,” he growled. “That is, ye are meant for yer husband.”
“Nay—” she started, but he had put some distance between them, his expression hard.
“Nay, Finley,” he rasped, his expression contorted in pain. “I cannae be yer first. I’ve already done too much.”
Tears pricked her eyes. He hadn’t done anything but kiss her! How was that too much!
He wasn’t attracted to her. That had to be it. Finley forced back the tears, giving him a tight smile. “A mistake then,” she answered tightly.
But Erik shook his head, his hands clenched into fists. “Nay, lass. Not a mistake...a regret that things arena different.”
Finley wasn’t listening to him, however. She was already fleeing for the safety of her room, where he couldn’t see her tears.
