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Kissing her had been instinctive. The beast in me had been tired of distance and it had wanted her, it had needed her, and so it had taken what it could.
I’d expected her to protest or struggle, yet she’d melted against me the way she had that night in the garden, all soft and hot and giving. Making me want to take and take and take.
Dios.I’d thought my control around her was iron-clad, that the distance I’d put between us these last couple of years had done its job. Yet every time I was in her vicinity that control failed, and nothing I did seemed to prevent it.
The figure in red moved away from the manor, following one of the white gravel paths that led down to the loch’s pebbly beach. The wind whipped the dress around, flattening the red silk against her luscious curves. Even from here I could see them, full and rounded, inviting a man’s hand.
I could feel myself hardening—a reminder of her physical effect on me—and every muscle in my body went tight.
I needed to do something about it because distance wasn’t working. And that only left me with two options: either I gave that possessive part of me what it wanted—which was her, in every way possible—or I sent her away from me for good.
But how can you allow that? When she’s pregnant withyourchild? What about if she falls in love with someone else?
That thought made me want to growl with fury and denial, yet I couldn’t force her to marry me if she didn’t want to. And the more she resisted, the more the beast in me found it a challenge. It kept whispering that there were ways to make her see reason, ways Icouldforce her, ways that my father used.
I could use her emotions against her, threaten to take our baby from her when it was born if she didn’t marry me, for example.
Except that was the kind of tactic my father would have employed, and my entire being rebelled at using those kinds of tactics myself.
But if I sent her away I would never see her again. And I would never see my child either. Because if she fell for someone else... Well, I’d probably do something I’d regret, and neither of them needed to be exposed to that.
Perhaps she’ll fall for someone good. Someone who’ll treat her better than you will.
That was true. That was a possibility and one I couldn’t deny her.
Still, I’d have to have them both protected in some fashion.
I would never leave them with nothing.
A weight shifted in my chest at the thought—a heavy, dull ache which I ignored.
The figure in red moved away from the loch, wandering over the rolling lawns surrounding the manor. Then she paused and I could see her turn her head, glancing in the direction of the crofter’s cottage where I sat. Her curiosity must have been caught, because she started towards it.
I cursed under my breath. Clearly Mrs Mackenzie hadn’t warned her not to come near the cottage, which meant I was going to have to warn her off myself. She couldn’t be in here, not in my private domain. It was mine and I guarded it jealously.
Shoving back my chair, I crossed to the door, pulling it open and stepping outside.
She stopped dead as soon as she saw me, and didn’t move as I went striding across the lawn towards her.
I found myself staring hungrily at the dress, pleased that, firstly, she was wearing it and secondly it fitted her deliciously. The wrap style suited her curves, highlighting her hourglass figure to perfection, while the red made her skin look creamy and struck warm tones from the deep chestnut of her hair. It flattered her eyes too, lightening the liquid brown into a beautiful copper.
As I came closer I saw her cheeks had gone pink, and she brushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture. Was she still remembering that kiss? Was it lingering in her memory the way it was in mine?
Fool. You cannot lose control again.
No, and if I couldn’t even look at her without feeling as if I might, then the situation was even worse than I’d suspected. Sending her away was my only option.
My jaw ached, tension flooding through me as I forced my attention from her pretty mouth, meeting her gaze instead.
‘Oh,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I didn’t know you were—’
‘The cottage is out of bounds,’ I interrupted. ‘No one is permitted there.’
She glanced at the cottage, then back at me again. ‘Okay, sorry. No one told me.’
‘I’m telling you now.’
Her luscious mouth flattened, those intriguing sparks of temper glittering in her eyes again. ‘You can be polite about it, Con. You don’t have to bark orders at me like a drill sergeant.’
