It wasn't much different this time. If anything, it was far more dangerous now. Dominic had never, ever put one of his hirelings in such a predicament. Astrid, the traitorous previous barmaid, was possibly one of the most beautiful women ever to grace the Highlands, and Dominic had never felt even the slightest pull of attraction towards her.
There'd been times when he was sure she would have happily agreed to go to bed with him – before her obsession withThomas and hatred of Emma began to take root – but he'd never considered taking her up on it, not even for a moment.
And now he'd dragged poor Paisley into his bed, held her tight to him, and kissed her as if his life depended on it. He could still taste the sweet flavor of her lips, tinged with the honey-ale she and Brodie must have drunk earlier, tinged with sweat.
He closed his eyes, remembering how her hair had tickled his nose, dappled with dust and smelling of fresh green and wet earth. She'd frozen with shock, he was sure of it, but then he had felt her fingers slide up his arms, fingertips digging into the muscle, and she'd gasped into his mouth as it was all toomuch, and her feelings were rendering her almost helpless.
It was the most intoxicating kiss he'd ever had.
Dominic groaned out loud, cursing himself for a fool. His blood was still sluggish in his veins, heavy with sleep, and his mind was clouded. His chest pulled tight, making it hard to breathe, and the insistent curl of arousal in his gut meant that he wouldn't be sleeping again anytime soon.
To compound his mortification, Paisley would almost certainly have noticed his arousal.
I should never have put her in this position,Dominic thought despairingly.I wouldnae blame her for leaving, this very hour, and never coming back.
The idea of never seeing Paisley again filled him with a desperate panic, the likes of which Dominic wasn't used to grappling with.
The arousal in his gut did not go away, either.
He hauled himself to his feet with a groan and marched determinedly over to his desk. He wouldn't sleep much anymore, so he might as well get busy. Work, that was what he needed. Work would chase away these feelings and make him feel like himself again.
I hope so, anyway,Dominic thought grimly.
10
"Paisley, watch out!"
It was too late, of course. The empty glass slid off the tray she was carrying, smashing on the floor.
The patrons around Paisley gave a cheer and began to clap, grinning at her.
Brodie wasn't smiling. He was glowering at Paisley, arms crossed.
"Those glasses aren't cheap to replace, ye know!" he snapped. "Where is yer head, Paisley?"
I left it in Dominic's office, after he kissed me.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, bending down to sweep up the shattered glass and dregs of whiskey. "I've got a headache today."
That wasn't necessarily a lie. Hours had gone by since Paisley had inadvertently wandered into Dominic's office, only to be pulled down onto his bed like that and then kissed so thoroughly.
The kiss couldn't possibly have lasted long – only a few seconds – and Paisley herself had just stood there like an iced fish for most of it.
If she thought about it too long now, her knees threatened to buckle again. The ache kept returning to her gut, pulsing between her legs in what was probably a shockingly unladylike manner. She could still feel the warm curves of Dominic's muscles under her fingers, the sensation of his firm body against hers. She wanted it to happen again, to run her hands over Dominic's body, to feelhimrunhishands over hers...
But, no. That wasn't proper, not in the slightest.
She kept replaying the moment over and over in her mind. Was that why Dominic had pushed her out of the door – because she seemed so shocked and uncomfortable? If she'd seemed more enthusiastic about the kiss, would he have let her stay?
And whatthen? What if hehadlet her stay?
Paisley shivered again, goosebumps breaking out over her arms.
Better not to think too deeply about that. She was still a lady, and ladies had standards to keep.
Sweeping up the last of the broken glass, she moved over to the counter to dispose of it.
"I am sorry, Brodie," she repeated. "It was an accident."
