Page 62 of The Secret of Emerald Cottage

And so was she.

With all the willpower he possessed, he gently pushed her away, the action almost painful when a frail moan escaped her throat. “Molly, forgive me—”

His heart seized when she lunged to reclaim his lips, the desperate clutch of her fingers on his shirt causing his pulse to surge. “Oh, Molly, he whispered, his voice little more than a croak as he cradled her face in his hands, “God help me, you drive me mad …” Gripping the back of her neck, he deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth with all the passion he’d denied far too long.

Chest heaving, he pulled back to cup her face once again, gaze frantic as he tried hard to focus on green eyes spanned wide instead of those wet, lush lips parted in shallow breaths. “What are we doing, Molly?” he whispered, a touch of anguish in his tone. “Where are we going, lass? I want more, but do you?”

She blinked several times as if shaking off the spell that had been cast, the glaze in her eyes gradually refocusing with a familiar look of panic. “Brec, I …”—the muscles in her throat worked hard, as if she were just realizing what had transpired—“I’m … so sorry, but I … I can’t. I want more, I do, but my faith ...”

He stared as her words trailed off, the crux of the problem returning to haunt. Faith. The barrier that kept them apart, no matter how strong their connection. Sucking in a harsh breath, he gave a short nod and shifted to his side of the car, releasing all the tension and frustration of the moment in one long sigh of surrender. “Forgive me, Molly. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“But I kissed you too,” she said softly, the regret in her statement as strong as that in his gut. “So please forgive me for that. It’s just … well, the bond of friendship between us, Brec—the connection—is so strong, that sometimes it overwhelms me, you know?” Her chest expanded with a sharp intake of air that slowly leaked from her lips like a lingering lament.

Yeah, he knew.

Clearing his throat, he buckled his seat belt, smile tight as he pressed the ignition. “It seems we both need forgiveness today then, lass, because as we’ve firmly established, we’re good friends without benefits and nothing more, so this never happened then, aye?”

Yeah, right, McGill. Tell that to your heart.

Tears brimming, she offered a feeble nod as she looked away, fingers quivering while she rebuckled her belt.

“So, Molly …” He forced a stern look that was painfully at odds with the love aching inside. “If you don’t want this to happen again, my friend”—he aimed a warning finger barely punctuated with a smile—“don’t ever jog by yourself again. Understood?”