“Lass,” he whispered, his voice low.
“Aye?” She said, her arms crossed in front of her breasts. Breasts that he wanted to see so badly. Breasts that he yearned to cup in his hands, kenning they would be the perfect fit for his palms.
“I dinna want ye to go,” he confessed. His mind screamed at him that he was wrong, but his heart. His body. They both cheered in triumph as she sank into his arms and he scooped her up as if his very life depended on it.
His mouth found hers once again and he savored the taste of her. She tasted of the ripest, sweetest berry, and he was a starving man.
The way she clung to him had him feeling like he never wanted her to let go.
He broke the kiss and pushed off the door, carrying Lizzie to the bed where he gently laid her down.
She looked up at him, her big brown eyes hooded.
Steps sounded outside the door and the intrusion shook him out of whatever hold the lass had on him. It was as if she were awitch, casting a spell upon him. He sat up and rested his head in his hands.
“I canna do it, Lass.”
A small hand clutched his shoulder, and she pulled herself up. Lizzie settled in beside him, her body warm against his.
“I want ye, too,” she said quietly.
He shook his head. “I canna. I will no’ ruin ye to satisfy my wants. Or your wants. Ye deserve better.”
The words killed him as they left his mouth. Never had he put so much effort into not bedding a lass. It was taking all of his willpower and the longer she looked at him with hunger in her eyes, the more he wanted to push her onto the bed and tup her right there.
He stood and offered her his hand. When she clasped it, her fingers curling around his, he pulled her up. “Come on, Lass. Let’s get ye back to your own room.”
Without a word, she nodded and let him lead her out into the hall.
At her door, he paused.
“Lass, if our situation were different, ’twould be nay hesitation on my part. Ye are a beautiful woman that deserves the world.” He tucked a wayward curl behind her ear, letting his fingers trail slowly down her cheek.
And then, not trusting himself to keep his word, he quickly spun on his heel, disappearing into his own room, and locking the door, trying not to pay attention to Lizzie standing there looking dejected.
*
Pushing open thedoor to her room, Lizzie entered and closed it behind her. Mary still slept. Lizzie was amazed she didn’t hearany of the actions outside their room. To her ears it seemed like they were making enough noise to raise the dead.
Her skin still tingled from all of Malcolm’s touches. She didn’t want him to stop, and she’d be lying if his words didn’t hurt.
They did.
She slipped into bed and buried her head in the pillow. Wishing for sleep to overtake her so she could escape all the emotions running wild through her body.
After tossing and turning for the next hour, sleep, finally overtook her.
“Miss.” Lizzie woke to the sound of Mary’s voice and a gentle shaking. “’Tis time to wake. We must make haste. ’Tis late.”
Lizzie groaned and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She was exhausted. “What time is it?”
“The earl is waiting for us in the hall.”
Really? Had she really slept so late?
“I thought something was amiss with ye. I tried waking ye earlier and there was no rousing ye.”
She wasn’t ready to face Malcolm. Her limbs felt heavy and she wanted naught more than to curl up and burrow herself under the covers.
