Too late she realized he was coming out. She watched his silhouette rise from the loch, broad shoulders, narrow hips, long legs, the water cascading off his skin as he strode toward her. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Her heart clenched and her mouth dried to ashes.
He stopped a few feet from her. “And where will you go?” He set his hands on his hips, as if he was completely oblivious to his nakedness. He looked like a Greek statue—minus the fig leaf—sculpted and perfect. A shiver of desire coursed through her. She bent to pick up his shirt, handing it to him with her eyes properly averted.
He tossed it aside and stepped toward her. He put a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. “And go where?” he demanded again. “I think I deserve an answer.”
Anger flared, and she pushed his hand away. “How can I stay? After dinner tonight, after—” She stopped.
“What’s William Mears to you, Caroline?” he asked. “You lit up the moment he smiled at you.”
“William?” she squeaked. “You did—that—because Ismiledat Will?”
He put his hands on his hips, and she tried her best not to look down the length of his body.
“Will, is it?”
“We grew up together. Everyone thought we might marry someday, but he’s betrothed to Lottie. You can’t possibly be jealous of Will. I don’t love—” She stopped before she admitted something best kept hidden.
“He certainly seemed enamored of you. I know lust when I see it.”
So did she, and the evidence of his desire was obvious. She folded her hands over her chest. “Will is like a brother.”
“He wasn’t looking at you like a brother.”
“Still that gave you no right to do what you did.”
“You enjoyed it.”
“I was mortified.”
They were standing nose to nose. He reached up and caressed her cheek, his finger icy. “Do you know how beautiful you are when you are properly pleasured?”
“That was hardly proper! Why do you think I stabbed you with a fork?” She made the mistake of looking down at his leg, searching for the puncture wounds. Her breath caught at the sight of his erection.
“Don’t go,” he whispered.
“Do you mean now, this moment?” she asked, surprised at the huskiness of her voice, the weakness in her legs. “It’s all there is, Alec. I can’t stay.”
“The girls need you.”
“It’s not about that,” she murmured, intoxicated by the nearness of his body.
“I need you too,” he said.
Caroline saw the movement of his throat as he swallowed. She shook her head.
“Only because I am your servant. Because I was—convenient. You have Sophie. There’s no need to apologize for—for what happened in the tower. It was the fire, the drink, the—”
His fingers on her cheek stopped her. His hand was soft, cool, gentle as it stroked her face, cupped her cheek.
“It was more than that. Don’t sell yourself short. I wanted you.”
She stared into the dark hollows of his eyes. “You thought I was Sophie.”
“I thought you were perfect.”
She felt the nearness of his body, the warmth of his skin, despite the fact that he’d been swimming in near ice water moments before. She pressed her cheek into his palm, and shut her eyes for a moment, wished just this once, it was all true, and real, and she wasn’t cursed—
He groaned. “Damn it, Caroline, either kiss me or send me back into the bloody loch! I can’t bear this any longer, being close to you, not touching you.”
