She sucked in a breath, but he wouldn’t look at her, couldn’t acknowledge the pity he’d see there.
He could still remember the sensation of falling into the water, how it hadn’t felt cold, hadn’t felt likeanything. His body was no longer his own as his lungs inhaled water until he froze from the inside, his heart thrumming so hard it drained all the energy he’d thought to use to kick his way to the surface, to reach for rescue. But the current still pulled beneath the ice, unseen to those above the water, tugging him mercilessly, inexorably, towards the sea.
“A fisherman saw me go in, happened to have a boat on the water just past the ice floe. Caught me by a leg and pulled me out.”
“But Ewan?”
Callum had little he could be grateful for during those days after the accident, but God had granted him a small boon in keeping him unconscious and fighting a raging fever for nearly a week. That kept him ignorant of his cousin’s plight.
“He went after me, when he saw me go in,” he ground out, still angry about the decision that changed everything for his family. “Fell in immediately, where the ice was thicker.”
She made a sound then, a low keen that sounded almost feral, as though the ice had done her a personal affront. “Callum, no.”
His head bobbed in a grim nod. “They found him days later on the shore in Kinghorn, miles away.”
When his mind had still battled the fever, he was certain it was he who’d died that day, that the house was in mourning for his loss while he hovered as a ghost. The guilt had nearly overwhelmed him, knowing his aunt wept uncontrollably for Callum’s death. The reality was so much more cruel.
“I cost Ewan his life, the Taggart family their firstborn son. Ewan should be running the business, and James free to live the life he wants. But I ruined ev’rything. The least I can do is keep James safe, protect the legacy that should have been Ewan’s. That’s why I need the money. I dinnae care about my wealth, it’s what I can do with it.”
He let himself sit in silence for several long minutes until he felt the tension making Violet’s fingers twitch in his.
“Callum, you must know you’re not responsible. No one would believe you had any fault in what happened.”
His head shot up. “What did ye say?”
“What happened to Ewan was a tragic accident. You were achild, and you’re holding yourself responsible for it when you did nothing wrong in the first place.”
His mouth worked for a moment, then he pushed to his feet, dropping her hand. “I cost him his life. I kenned it wasnae safe—”
“You were a boy.” She stood, meeting his eyes as she pressed a palm to his chest, over his heart. Calming him, drawing some of the pain away. “When will you consider your debt repaid? Tragedies happen.”
He shook his head, stepping back. “Ye dinnae understand the loss—”
“No,” she chuckled without mirth. “I most certainly dounderstand loss. What I don’t understand is why you would torment yourself for a mistake.”
“It’s my duty—”
“No, it’s not! You want to hold yourself to an impossible standard because then you can keep everyone at a distance.”
Something in his chest broke apart and shifted, the jagged edges rubbing together and making his soul quake. He stepped close, crowding her against the door, and pressed his hands against the glass at either side of her head, desperate to prove her wrong. “Why would I want to hold ev’ryone at a distance?”
She lifted onto her toes and held his gaze, and he gripped her hips to keep her steady. He’d been mistaken; her eyes weren’t the color of whisky, but had shards of green in them, like shoots of grass pushing through the earth. “Because they won’t see how hurt you are.”
Kissing her then wasn’t a conscious choice, more an inevitability, like they’d been destined for this moment since they met, opposing forces drawn together, pulled into an invisible orbit. This kiss wasn’t about causing a scandal. Every nerve in his body aligned to her, the catch of her breath, the lift of her chest to bring herself closer. Her berry lips softened beneath his, and he sipped from them, drew strength from her, savoring each touch as though it would be his last. The kiss carried a fraction of the intimacy they’dwoven between themselves, the most delicate of lace, so flimsy it wouldn’t survive any tension.
A whimper escaped her throat as his tongue nudged her lips, and she opened, welcomed him, and the warmth spreading through him forced out the cold, the anesthetic that kept him numbed, unfeeling. Christ, she was making himfeel—
She pressed her hand to his chest, above his pounding heart, and pushed, bringing her other hand to her mouth. Her eyes darted over his face, and the sight of her lips, bright and wet from his kisses, made him want her more.
“I thought we agreed this wouldn’t be real.”
Fuck their ridiculous agreement. “That kiss wasnae to get ye ruined.”
Her lips parted, and he leaned in to take them again, but she recoiled. His stomach plummeted. “If we were caught and you asked for my hand, I’d still refuse you. I won’t be trapped in a loveless marriage.”
Why did that hurt so much? Of course he didn’t love her, nor did he want tomarrythe lass, just…
Kiss her? Christ, when had he wanted tokissa woman as badly as he did now? “I wanted to kiss ye—”
