Her lips quirked up into a smile, her exhaustion not quite so evident now. "Then I will hold you to that promise, Your Grace."
He could not help but grin at her teasing tone, but the sincerity in her words grounded him. He stepped toward the fire, pulling a chair a little closer and sitting down. "Sit," he said softly, gesturing toward the armchair. "You look weary."
Jaclyn hesitated for a moment before nodding and crossing the room to take the seat he had indicated. She settled into it, her hands folded in her lap, but her gaze never wavered from his. Kingston remained standing, watching her, his heart thudding in his chest. He still could not quite believe how quickly everything had changed—how, in a matter of days, she had gone from a woman he had only dreamed of to the one he could call his own. He had long desired her, and now, to have her here, safe and with him, was more than he had ever thought possible.
"I wish we could have found some place to rest sooner," Kingston said suddenly, the weight of the unsaid words pressing on his chest. He wanted to ask her to marry him, but he knew it was not the right time. Not when she was so clearly exhausted from their travels. "I hate that you are so tired."
Jaclyn raised an eyebrow, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "Trust me, I am quite all right, Kingston." She tilted her head. "Do not fret needlessly. I was aware of the urgency when we left the hunting lodge. You should rest as well. Please tell me that you are remaining in this room with me and did not secure a separate room for yourself."
"I..." Kingston stopped himself, his gaze locking with hers. He had always been a man of action, but there were moments—like now—when words felt insufficient. "I did not…” He frowned. “It may have been presumptuous, but I did not wish for us to be apart."
Her expression softened, her eyes reflecting the firelight. "Good," she said gently. "That is my wish as well. I only wanted you. You’ve given me everything I ever wanted. Now help me out of this gown so I can rest properly."
Kingston moved toward her, his boots soft on the stone floor, and knelt before her. He reached for her and spun her around to undo all those infernal buttons. He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck wanting to love her all over again. But he wasn’t a cad. Still, he could not resist that simple kiss. He made quick work of the buttons so she could step out of the gown. “You should be all right to sleep now,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. That bloody shift was nearly translucent and left little to the imagination. Damn, how he wanted her… “You should sleep now.” His voice was husky as he spoke.
Her breath hitched as she looked up at him, and he saw the flicker of emotion in her eyes. Her eyes heated as she held his gaze. Did she feel it too? This need that stirred between them. It was undeniable and unstoppable. “Kingston,” she whispered. “Join me.” She held out her hand to him and he wanted to take it, but he did not move.
His heart surged, his chest tightening with desire. “I shouldn’t…”
“You should,” Jaclyn insisted. “Then she took one step closer. Kingston stayed still for fear he would reach out to her, pull her against him, and ravish her as his body demanded. He would not treat her as if she did not matter. He would do what was right for her. He cared too much for her to treat her so callously.
“Darling,” she said. “I want you. Do not deny me this.”
He could not find words in the moment. All that remained was the overwhelming truth of what they shared. He could deny her nothing, and apparently, he was the cad he feared himself to be because he would make love to her again. He did not deserve her.
“I find, my darling, I can deny you nothing,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Then love me,” she said.
As if there was anything else he could do… He pulled her into his arms and slanted his mouth over hers. He would always love this woman. He could not resist any longer. She responded eagerly, as if she had been waiting for this moment just as much as he had. Their kiss deepened, their desire radiating between them as the fire burned on behind them, casting light on a future he prayed they had together.
Jaclyn awoke to the soft light of the early morning streaming through the window, the golden rays casting a warm glow over the rustic room in the Scottish inn. Her body was pleasantly sore, and as she shifted beneath the blanket, she found herself nestled close to Kingston. His warmth surrounded her, the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back grounding her in a way nothing else had ever done before. She smiled softly to herself. The night they had shared had been blissful beyond measure. Their lovemaking had been tender, passionate, and wholly consuming. She had never felt more connected to him; her heart fully surrendered to the moment.
Jaclyn stole a glance at him as he lay beside her, still asleep, his dark hair tousled, and his features relaxed in slumber. He was so handsome, so strong. And yet, there was something in his expression now that made her believe he had given himself to her as fully as she had to him. His hand was gently resting on her arm, as if afraid to let go, even in sleep. A soft sigh escaped her lips, and before she could stop herself, she gently turned to face him, her fingers trailing lightly over his chest. The feeling of his skin against hers was enough to stir the warmth in her all over again.
As if sensing her movements, Kingston stirred, blinking his eyes open and meeting her gaze. A smile crept onto his face, soft and full of affection. “Good morning,” he said, his voice low and husky with sleep.
Jaclyn’s heart swelled at the sight of that smile, and before she could stop herself, she pulled him close, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that was slow, languorous, and full of promise. She never wanted this moment to end. She wanted to be with him like this forever. Kingston’s hands slid to her back, pulling her closer as their kiss deepened. His touch was electric, and she felt a rush of desire that made her pulse quicken. It was as though their bodies had memorized each other, knew exactly how to respond, how to ignite that flame of passion between them.
But just as quickly as the kiss had begun, Kingston pulled back slightly, his eyes darkened with something that Jaclyn couldn’t quite place. His thumb gently stroked her cheek as he looked down at her with a mix of affection and something else—something deeper. “We can’t,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret, but firm nonetheless.
Jaclyn’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why not?”
His smile was tender, but there was an unmistakable determination in his eyes. “As much as I wish we could,” he replied, “there are things we must do this morning. We cannot simply stay here, wrapped in each other’s arms.”
Her heart fluttered, but not with the excitement she had felt just moments ago. Instead, a slight wave of disappointment washed over her. "What must we do?" she asked, her voice soft with the vulnerability she couldn't help but reveal to him.
He hesitated for only a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. “We must marry,” he said; his tone was steady as he spoke those words.
Jaclyn stiffened, her chest tightening. Her heart dropped, and she pulled back slightly to meet his gaze fully, her brow furrowing. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, her voice suddenly tinged with unease.
He sighed, rubbing a hand through his dark hair. "Jaclyn, I... we... I know what this means. I’ve acted on impulses, and you may feel as though you’re bound to me, but it is more than that. I cannot, in good conscience, let you continue without a proper marriage. It’s the right thing to do."
Her heart pounded in her chest, but not in the way it had moments before. The air between them seemed to shift, the weight of his words pressing down on her like a stone. Her heart grew heavy with disappointment. He did not feel the same way about her that she did him. This was just something he thought he should do, not what he truly wanted. How could she agree to such a union? They would never truly be happy. He would never be happy with her… "You want to marry me because you think you ruined me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is that it?"
His eyes softened, but there was a trace of guilt in his gaze. "No, it’s not just that," he answered quietly, taking her hand in his. “It’s not about guilt or what I think happened between us. It’s about honor. It’s about offering you what you deserve. I would never marry you just because of what we shared.”
The words stung, though she couldn’t have explained why. Wasn’t what they shared enough? Didn’t he feel the same pull toward her that she felt for him? She swallowed hard, her gaze falling to their entwined hands. "But you think I need your protection, then?" she asked, trying to keep the bitterness from her voice.
