“What?” he said, taking her hand. “Touch you?”
She closed her eyes, her pulse racing too fast. “I cannot do this.”
“Tell me.”
Aching, she opened her eyes, stared at the man she’d sworn, if necessary, to kill. As if she could raise a blade against Patrik.
She despised her emotional defenselessness, had since she’d watched the last pile of dirt tossed upon Father Lawrenz’s grave. A child of twelve, she’d sworn never again to be placed in such a position. A vow she’d kept.
Until now.
Until Patrik.
Overwhelmed, Emma tried to pull away.
Patrik’s grip held firm. “Lean against me.”
“I-I cannot.”
“You can. Try. For me.”
“You do not understand what you ask.” Nor the dangers he invited. Against all logic, against what her mind ordered, she stepped forward and laid her head against his muscled chest. Too aware of him, comforted by the steady beat of his heart, she closed her eyes.
“You scare me.”
He gently stroked her hair. “I know.”
“Arrogant, too.” But she didn’t look up, didn’t dare.
A chuckle rumbled in his throat. “Aye, I have been called that a time or two.”
“’Tis not funny.”
He drew back, the humor on his face fleeing. “Nay, lass, I find naught amusing about what you make me feel.”
As if his admission helped anything. “Patrik—”
He gently cupped her face, lifted her chin until their eyes met, until it was as if he could see straight to her soul. “I have tried to understand the why of it, to figure out what about you intrigues me, and have told myself I am wrong to want you when you still grieve for a husband lost. And at every turn, I fail.” He shook his head. “My feelings for you make little sense, especially considering the meager time I have known you.” He paused. “However wrong, I want you, want to make love to you.”
Her body trembled at his confession while her mind screamed for her to break free. Already she’d crossed lines she could never repair.
He stroked his thumb across her lower lip. “I have no right to ask, to want you this much, but damn me, I do.” Patrik searched her face. “Tell me you do not want this and I will leave you alone.”
Tears burned her eyes. After being raped during her youth, Emma had believed the only man she would ever care for was Father Lawrenz. Now, she understood her feelings for the priest were those of a girl searching to be accepted. Nothing compared to the depth of a woman wanting Patrik’s touch.
Long moments passed. Still, he held, waited, giving her every opportunity to step away.
And if she did, if she allowed her assault of ten and two summers to guide her decision, smother what he made her feel, she would never know the joy of being with a man who made her feel desire.
She was wrong to consider intimacy, especially when it would be tangled in lies. But the desire in his eyes, his need for only her, filled an emptiness inside she’d never believed any would touch.
Bedamned the consequence. However wrong, for this one night, she would hold what destiny would deny her.
On a shaky breath, Cristina reached up to kiss him.
Chapter 6
Patrik met Cristina’s mouth halfway, soft, steady, firm with intent. He gently backed her against the smooth wall and pressed his body flush against hers. Heat exploded inside, poured through him, engulfed him until it was as if his body was on fire.
