Page 22 of Brigand

Why Sophia leapt into his mind at that moment, he didn’tknow. His sister was safe and warm, tucked away in Hampshire at the bestboarding school money could buy. But if—God forbid—any man ever treated her inthis fashion, Ewan would kill him. String him up by his toes and gut him.

Yet he had done this. To a girl. A girl he’d once loved.

Mortification washed through him.

She detested him. But he deserved every bit of her hate.

Her lids fluttered. Her body stilled. He knew without adoubt she was awake. Her hand moved slowly, searching for something. She foundit. Grasped it and then sprang up suddenly into a crouching position, wieldinga sharp kitchen knife.

“Stay back,” she snarled. Apprehension laced her expression.It was threaded with desperation. And determination.

He realized she couldn’t see his face, didn’t know who hewas. He raised the lamp. “It’s Ewan. Rest easy. I won’t hurt you.”

Her eyes narrowed. She lifted the knife higher. It shook.“What do you want?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

She put out a lip in mock sympathy. “Poor baby.”

“I wanted to talk to you. Make sure you were all right.”

She gaped at him. “All right?” Her tone made her meaningmore than clear. She was not all right. Not by far.

He blew out a sigh and raked his hair again. No doubt itstood on end. “Violet…I’m sorry. I’m sorry about what happened with Craig. Itwon’t happen again.”

Her exquisite features twisted. “Won’t it? We both know allI accomplished tonight was making him angry.”

“Is that why…” He nodded to the knife.

She glanced at it. Realized she was still holding it aloftand let it drop. “Yes.” She glared at him. “I’ll use it if I have to.”

“He won’t bother you again.”

Her throat worked. “I’m glad you have so much faith in him.”

“Violet…” He took a step closer and she flinched. “I justwant to look at your cheek.”

Carefully, he sat on the cot by her side. And winced. It washard as a rock. He gently took her chin in his hold and turned her head toexamine the bruise. His attention snagged on the curve of her long swanlikeneck. Flawless white skin marked only with bruises shaped suspiciously likefingers.

A nasty worm curled in his belly. He fixed his attention onher cheek. It was bad. It must have been a vicious swipe. “Why did he hit you?”

His question infuriated her. He saw it in the tight lines ofher face, felt it in the sudden humming tension engulfing her. “Because Iwouldn’t let him rape me, I suppose.” This, she spat.

He cringed. Of course. “I’m so sorry, Violet. I don’t knowwhat else to say.”

“Say good night. And leave me in peace.” She tried to jerkaway but he tightened his hold. He shouldn’t have. She gasped in pain. But hedidn’t let go. He couldn’t. Instead he lightened his touch and stroked her withhis thumb.

God. Her skin was like silk. Soft and smooth. Irresistible.He hated that it had been marred. He bent his head and touched his lips to thebruises on her neck. Lightly. A whisper. Bussing one after another.

“I’m sorry,” he said after each kiss. “I’m sorry.” Her pulsefluttered beneath his lips, thrummed. But she held herself still. Didn’t move.He kissed the curve of her jaw where it met her ear and followed the line, overthat hideous purple mass, to her lips.

He’d vowed he’d never kiss her again. Sworn he didn’t evenwant to. But when their lips met, when he tasted her, he knew it was a lie.He’d wanted this. He’d always wanted this.

She made a muffled sound as his mouth sealed hers, but shedidn’t pull away. And more importantly, she didn’t poke him with her knife. Sheset her tiny hand to his chest as though she intended to push him back, butthen she fisted it in his shirt.

He tried to be as gentle as he could. He didn’t want to hurther any more than he already had. But when she responded, when she leaned in tohim and opened to him, when her tongue met his in a tentative foray, he lostthe thread of his control. He eased her down onto the bed and covered her withhis body. He set a palm on her uninjured cheek and held her in place as heconsumed her.

It was heaven. Like coming home. A tremendous rush of peaceand rightness washed over him. Violet, his Violet, was back in his arms.