Run, Irish. Run away again. But it won’t be long before I catch you.
The words merely fostered her flight. He was still behind her, but he was gaining, his tread on the stairs heavy and swift.
Her breath came in ragged spurts. The door to her room was open. She bolted through, then tried to close it.
Too late. Alec shouldered it wide, then jammed it closed with the heel of his hand.
He turned. Maura stood in the middle of her room, her eyes full of angry accusation.
“Maura!” His tone reflected his consternation. His bewilderment. He advanced to where she stood. “What the devil is wrong? Why did you run? It was just a handful of pebbles and earth.” He reached for her.
She batted his hand away. “It wasn’t,” she nearly screamed. “It was a piece of my home. A piece of my heart!”
“Maura! I don’t understand.”
She flung herself at him then, thumping his chest with her fists. “It was Ireland. My father’s lands. My lands.”
“McDonough lands?” Realization began to set in. Alec caught her wrists.
Maura wrenched herself free. “Aye!” she cried. “You’ve robbed us again. But I swear, you’ve robbed us for the last time, you bloody Black Scotsman!”
All strength drained from her limbs. She sank to the floor. Utterly desolate, she hugged her arms around herself and began to rock back and forth. Her shoulders heaved but she made no sound.
Alec stared down at her helplessly. Something tightened in his breast. It hurt to see her like this.
“For God’s sake, Irish.” Sinking down to his knees, his arms closed around her. He pulled her close. Even then she tried to resist. His beautiful, spirited Irish rose…When she curled her hands into fists, he brought her closer, wedging them against his chest. He held her captive, firm but not hurtful.
“Maura…Maura, listen to me.” His murmur stirred the hairs at her temple. “I’m sorry. Set your mind at rest, sweet. What, did you think you’d never return to Ireland? You’ll see your people again. You can return anytime you like. You have only to say it and it will be done.”
He meant to reassure her. But it appeared his words had the opposite effect. It was as if she curled into herself. It wasn’t something he could see. But he felt it.
And then she broke into dry, jagged sobs.
It was like a knife to the throat. A slash upon his heart.
Throughout the storm that raged within her body, Alec held her. Held her until she lay limp against his shoulder, his throat oddly tight.
For a long, long time they remained like that—Alec’s arms around her, Maura’s cheek pressed into the hollow of his shoulder.
She gave a small, breathy sigh.
In turn, Alec caught one small, feminine fist and pressed a kiss upon her knuckles.
She stirred against him.
Alec lifted his head to look at her. His half smile ebbed.
Her hair had come undone. It showered over her back and shoulders, a black, silken rope. Alec sucked in a breath.
With a subtle tightening of his arm, he brought them both to their feet.
Within the span of an instant something changed. Everything changed. Passion supplanted protectiveness. Desire unseated comfort.
The very air between them was charged with fever-pitch awareness.
Slowly, he lowered his head. Their lips touched…clung. Her hands curled against him. With a small sound in her throat, she angled her head to meet him fully.
He deepened the kiss by degrees. Lingeringly. Her lips parted beneath his; she opened to him like a flower beneath the summer sun. Every fiber in his being surged to explosiveness. He tamped it down, when all he longed for was to be inside her, driving deep and hard. His mind was buzzing. It felt like he’d waited a lifetime for this kiss…for this woman.
