There was a sultriness to his tone that made her want to divulge all her secrets to him, but pride wouldn’t let her submit so easily.
“I do not think it matters who helps me complete the list or not, my Laird. What is important is?—”
“Ye’re me bride,” he said sharply. “Mine and nay one else’s. As such, ‘tis me responsibility to help ye complete yer list.”
Responsibility.
How she had come to hate that word since he insisted on making all their dealings about taking responsibility.
“Why must it always be about duty and responsibility to you?” she huffed, exasperated. “It frustrates me endlessly how you choose to treat me like I’m only another responsibility to you.”
“And how would ye have me treat ye, Violet?” he asked, his eyes hardening.
“Like a woman!” she exclaimed. “A person. Not a chore to tick off your list.”
Her words shocked her and him, it seemed. She hadn’t meant to be so honest, and the urge to lower her head rose quick and hard. Instead, she met his surprised gaze with her angry one.
“I daenae think ye would like to see me without these boundaries, Violet,” he said.
“Why?”
He stepped even closer then, and her heart began to thud, loud enough that she feared he could hear it.
His rich masculine scent filled her nostrils, forcing her to breathe him in, and the heady warmth of his broad chest called to her. He was always so warm that she found herself unconsciously leaning into him.
Even now, he didn’t touch her or make any move, yet every part of her ached with the need to feel his hands on her, to feel his lips against hers.
What was it about this infuriating man that had her panting with the need to be touched every time she was in his vicinity?
“Because, Violet,” he answered, “ye will probably run from me.”
“Why don’t you let me decide for myself?” she shot back.
She knew she was pushing him again, and soon he would growl, infuriated, but when his lips stretched into a wolfish grin, she found herself perturbed.
“Answer me question first, Violet,” he insisted.
“Which one?”
He growled low, taking one more step, and now there was scarcely any space between them.
She forced herself to swallow past the lump in her throat, but she didn’t look away from him. Didn’t dare to show any sign of weakness.
“When ye crossed the item off yer list,” he repeated, “were ye thinkin’ of me or Callum?”
She contemplated feigning ignorance again, but she was tired of the push and pull between them. Tired of ignoring how much she wanted him in this moment.
“I was thinking about you,” she admitted breathlessly.
His lips claimed hers then, and there was naught to do but give in to the sweet sensation of finally getting what she had wanted since she had first seen him that evening.
17
Kissing Violet always made Ruaridh burn with lust hotter than anything he had ever felt, and it made him feel almost guilty, like he had insulted his past lovers.
Her full lips were sweet and pliant beneath his, and while she had once been shy and tentative, now she hungrily matched him, her hands moving to the nape of his neck, where she fisted his hair.
The pain shot from his scalp to his toes and returned to his cock, heightening his lust. He drank in her pants and little sighs, unable to keep himself from groaning into her mouth.
