Page 62 of Four Promises to Love

“Don’t I?” He paused. “I suppose because this ghost business isn’t new. Rose and Thomas visited my siblings as well when they were falling in love.”

Finn’s lungs knotted. She couldn’t breathe. Was he saying…?

“Christ, Finn.” He laughed again. “I was going to say you look as if you’ve seen a ghost, but I’ve seen that look, and this one is far worse. Afraid of love, are you?”

Finding her breath, she scowled at him. “I am not afraid of some paltry emotion.”

“Love is paltry? Are you speaking from personal experience?”

Jimmy had been Finn’s most serious follower, and she couldn’t say that she’d loved him. She’d broken things off after discovering that he had wandering affections. The betrayal had stung her pride more than her heart. Then she thought of Iris. Beautiful, bold Iris—who’d been reduced to a pale, weak creature who’d do anything for more of the poison her lover had given her.

Finn shut out the painful memories of their last encounter.

It wasn’t Iris’s fault. Carver did this to her. Carver—and his promises of love.

“One doesn’t have to touch fire to know it burns,” she said flatly.

“You haven’t been in love, then.” Owen looked pleased at the notion.

“Have you?” she shot back.

“Not even close.”

She didn’t know why his prompt reply bothered her. “That makes two of us.”

“Until I met you.”

Crikey.

Her heart hammered with panic and something else. Something that made her feel as if she’d downed a bottle of champagne.

“You…you’re not saying that you…you…”

“Not yet.” His eyes held hers. “But fair warning, Finn: if I were to fall in love with any woman, it would be you.”

“You don’t know me,” she managed.

“I know you are resourceful, independent, and plucky.”

Plucky?

“You make me sound like the village spinster,” she muttered.

His lips twitched. “You are also beautiful and intriguing beyond words. I cannot stop thinking about you. I haven’t stopped—not since the day we met.”

“I suppose drugging you made a lasting impression.”

“You would have made an impression anyway. You, Finn Kidd, are unforgettable.”

He traced her cheekbone with his thumb. His touch was seductive…but he waited. The fact that he did not presume—that he was a gentleman first and foremost—made yearning burst through the walls of her heart. She knew they should discuss the vision further; perhaps there was a clue that might lead to the cache. She knew that giving in to desire was perilous—and he deserved so much better.

Even spending one more night with him was wrong.

“Stay with me,” she whispered and pressed her mouth to his.

Eighteen

At the touch of Finn’s mouth, Owen felt need surge against his restraint. After all she’d been through, he did not wish to take advantage. Even a strong woman had vulnerabilities. When she’d described her vision of being chased by a terrifying enemy, he’d wanted to howl with rage. Knowing what he did of her scars, he never wanted her to feel fear again.