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Could she really do this?
“Sabrina,” he started in a long-suffering voice, breaking the silence.
“I have feelings for you, Graeme.”
He froze. For a few seconds, the candles seemed to flicker and grow dim. Sabrina had to resist the urge to squeeze her eyes shut.
“Feelings?” he asked. “As in . . .”
Drat.Why did he have to makeeverythingso difficult?
“Yes, feelings, as in emotions. As in the kind men and women have for each other when they . . . like each other. Quite a lot,” she defiantly added.
He looked more puzzled than anything else. “I see. And just how do you expect me to respond to that?”
* * *
The lass had all but dropped an anvil on his head. Her words certainly had that effect, knocking every sensible thought from his brain.
It was the fault of those blasted feelings she kept talking about. Feelings like the ones that urged him to sweep her up, carry her to the damn bed—which wasright there—and make love to her. For their entire deranged conversation, he’d been forced to exert every ounce of willpower to keep his hands to himself.
And now, alone in the shadowed intimacy of his bedroom, was she offering herself to him?
He might as well shoot himself and be done with it.
Sabrina blinked, obviously startled by his tepid response—one that had taken every ounce of what little restraint he had left. Then her fine, golden eyebrows snapped together in an imperious scowl. She smartly covered the short distance between them and then jabbed a finger to his chest.
“For one, I would expect you to respond with a degree of courtesy befitting a gentleman.”
“Lass, you just propositioned me. I’m rather at a loss.”
Her cheeks burned with a bright heat. “I did no such thing. I told you how I feel, and I would expect you to do the same. After all, you have been rather free with your kisses on more than one occasion. Were you, in fact, simply dallying with me?” She sniffed. “That is hardly the behavior of a gentleman.”
Nowthatwas annoying.
“Let me point out that on at least one of those occasions,youkissed me.”
“Very well, but you didn’t exactly fight me off. You responded with a great deal of enthusiasm, if memory serves.”
“Because I am clearly a moron who forgot he was a gentleman. And let that be a lesson to you, I might add.”
She blinked again and took a step back. Sabrina no longer looked angry or even imperious. She looked . . . wounded.
And that made Graeme feel like a total blighter. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right. In case you’ve failed to notice, I’m not the most eloquent of men.”
“Oh, I noticed. And I will add that it’s not exactly the done thing for a woman to profess her feelings. It was horribly difficult. And embarrassing,” she added under her breath.
“Och, not for a brave lass like ye,” he said, trying to lighten her mood.
Her lips went flat with disapproval.
“Sabrina, what exactly do you want from me?” he asked, feeling at sea.
After staring at the floor for a few moments, she lifted her gaze. It shimmered with a mix of emotions that scared the hell out of him.
“I want to know how you feel about me,” she whispered.
He knew he should hustle her right to the door and out of the room. But with the hurt in her eyes and the wee softness in her voice, he couldn’t reject her. At least not without explaining why.
