Page 47

“Bethea?”

His timbre held arousal, and something significantly more tantalizing.

Lord, she was in trouble.

Refusing to look up or else her eyes might give her innermost thoughts away, she slathered butter on a piece of bread and affected indifference. She didn’t even like butter. “Hmm?”

“Bethea?”

Just the way her name rolled off his tongue sent tingles to unmentionable places.

The wine glass made a light clink as he set it down. “Look at me.”

She shook her head, her attention riveted on her food. “I dinna think that’s a verra good idea.”

“Why?” His voice sounded like warm, smooth honey. Rich and delicious and tempting. So, so tempting.

Good God.

Could that damned brogue sound any sexier? His words entwined around her, sensuous and intoxicating. Bethea was on the verge of throwing herself into his arms and demand he have his way with her. Or she have her way with him.

She was not answering that question.

What would she say?

Camden, just yer voice has me quivering with carnal need.

A very strong suspicion nagged that he knew precisely how he affected her.

His chair scraped unnaturally loudly as he scooted it back, but she kept her attention trained on her food. One touch, one word, and the self-restraint she barely held in check would shatter. Scatter like the thistledown in a windstorm.

When had she become so malleable?

How could she want Camden this much? For surely, that was what this feeling, this aching, burning need was. Bethea didn’t even know what exactly she wanted but instinctively knew he could provide it.

Ye didna wish to marry him, she sternly reminded herself.

Her lustful self tittered, Aye, but ye want to bed him.

This is only temporary.

Dinna let yer emotions become involved.

She closed her eyes in an attempt to ignore the hulking man towering over her and her immediate, intense response.

Too late. Too late. Too dashed late.

Still holding the bread, she seized her wine goblet and took a deep drink, wishing it was something stronger to steady her nerves.

As he gently removed the bread from her shaking fingertips, she swallowed. Just as tenderly, he drew her to her feet, one hand cradling her waist, and the other cupping her nape.

“Ye ken, I want ye, and I ken ye want me, too, leannan.”

Sweetheart.

With each husky word, he dipped his midnight dark head lower and lower.

Lord help her, she was utterly and completely lost.