Page 260 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“You might as well be sleeping in your bed,” he said.

“What?”

“You lay beside me in my bed, but you might as well be in your own chambers.”

“Ye are my husband,” she said. “I canna’ refuse you.”

“Will you force me into the role of rapist?”

Her heart began to beat fast.

“Tell me you never want me to touch you again and I will leave you be, Rhoslyn.”

“I-I did no’ say that,” she stammered.

“You did not have to. It is one or the other,” he said. “If you demand my brother’s head along with your grandfather’s attacker before truly returning to my bed, then so be it. But once the price is paid, you cannot renege.”

“I never said you had to do any of those things,” she said. “I never demanded anything.”

“Then you do not care if I let my brother live? You do not care if your grandfather’s attacker goes free?”

“Of course I care.” She slammed her goblet and the pitcher down onto the bench. “I asked you for nothing.”

He grasped her arm and pulled her so close she could feel his breath on her face. “Then nothing I do will change your mind?”

“I do no’ blame ye for your brother’s actions,” she shot back.

“But you do blame me for your grandfather—and you blame me for sending Lady Andreana away.”

She hesitated. “Ye were right to send her away.” It galled her to admit it. “Had ye no’ sent her away Lord Lochland would have married her to De Quincy. I canna’ fault you for that.”

“Nay?” he said. “Then what do you fault me for?”

For coming here. For ripping me from the peace of the convent. For giving me a child whose father I may always question.

But what would have been Andreana’s fate if she had remained at the convent? And what of herself? Lord Lochland would have likely betrothed her to De Quincy and Andreana to someone else just as cruel. What would have been the life of a child born from such a union?

Rhoslyn met his gaze squarely. “I blame ye for being a man.”

His brows rose. “Then I am condemned, for I cannot change that. But I can remind you that there are some benefits to my being a man.” He stepped closer.

She dropped her gaze to his chest. “My grandfather is in the next room.”

“Not the next room.” With a finger beneath her chin, he tilted her head upward.

His gaze fixed on her mouth as his head lowered. His lips brushed hers and it seemed as though ages had passed since he’d touched her. Her heart pounded and desire streaked through her. She had the sudden urge to shove him onto the bed and ride him—hard. But he kissed her softly, as if reacquainting himself with her. He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against his body. The tightening of her nipples caused her sex to tighten and she couldn’t halt the moan that slipped from her lips.

She didn’t wait for him to touch her, but cupped the bulge that pressed against his tunic. He swept her into his arms and strode around to the side of the bed. Rhoslyn threw back the curtain and he laid her on the mattress, then came down on top of her. His weight pressed her into the feather mattress. She wrapped her arms around his back and slid her hands down and over the curve of his muscled buttocks.

“My lady.”

His warm breath washed over her ear and the husky note in his voice sent a shiver through her.

He nuzzled her ear. “You are impatient.”

“A gentleman doesna’ make a lady wait.” She kneaded his buttocks.

“Rhoslyn,” he said in a hoarse voice.