The Campbell Trilogy (72 page)

But she did not heed the warning and leaned closer, allowing her breasts to brush his chest. “I thought you wanted to marry me?”

Every muscle tensed at her intimate touch. His eyes flashed shards of green fire. “What the hell do you want from me?” he growled through clenched teeth. “I’ll not sit here and watch you marry another man. God’s blood, Elizabeth, I’m not made of stone.”

His very ferocity gave her courage.
He did care.
Boldly, she put her hand on his chest and felt him flinch beneath the soft leather of his jerkin. “You’re not?” she asked, skimming her hands over the heavy slabs and sharply defined muscle that felt as unyielding as stone. “You feel like it.” When she reached the opening, she slipped her hand beneath the leather to the thin linen of his shirt, breathing in the hard, warm skin underneath.

He practically hissed.

She peeked at him from under her lashes, wanting to press tiny kisses along the rigid lines of his jaw until his
resistance softened. As she leaned against him to whisper in his ear, damp tendrils of slick dark hair brushed against her nose and mouth. The faint scent of soap and warm male cascaded through her in a heady rush. “I’m not marrying another man,” she said softly.

His muscles flexed under her fingertips. She could feel the hard pounding of his chest, but he made no move to enfold her in his arms.

Lizzie felt a moment of uncertainty. She’d just as good as told him that she’d chosen him. Shouldn’t he be holding her tight against his chest and pressing kisses on her head? On her mouth?

Instead, he clasped his hand around her wrist and forcibly set her away from him. “You should.”

The look in his eyes pierced her newfound confidence. Stricken, she felt the happiness seep out of her. “What do you mean?” Her voice wobbled.
Please, don’t stammer.
She took a deep, ragged breath. “Don’t you wish to marry me?”

He swore, and the tiny lines etched around his mouth turned stark white. “God damn it, Elizabeth. You’re not making it easy. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

“Right thing?” Her eyes raked his face. She could feel her chance at happiness slipping away. The prospect of unrequited love loomed like a dark cloud. “Why is it right that I marry Robert?”

He turned from her, taking a few steps away as if to clear his mind. “There are things … there are things about me that you don’t know.”

She put her hand on his arm. “Then tell me. I want to know everything about you.”

He wanted to. She could see the turmoil on his face, but he shook his head. “I can’t.”

She dropped her hand. “Or won’t,” she said tonelessly.

“Or won’t,” he agreed.

Disappointment fisted in her belly at his rejection. But
she heard the sadness in his voice and knew that even if he would not tell her its source, she could not just walk away.

“It doesn’t matter. I know all I need to know. All that is important. I know the kind of man you are: strong, kind, and honorable to the core.”

A bark of pained laughter shot from him. “You don’t know me at all. Would that I were half the man you think me.” He shook his head, no longer fighting it, as if her words had made it easier on him. “No. Marry your Campbell, Lizzie. He will give you the life you deserve. I have nothing to offer you. No position, no wealth, no fine castles.”

“None of those things matter.”

He looked at her as if she were a fool. “Only someone who has never known otherwise would think that.”

Her cheeks burned. “All I meant was that I have those things already. I do not need to marry Robert to get them.”

He stiffened, and she feared she’d pricked his pride again. No man wanted to have his wife provide for him. How could she explain that without him by her side nothing else mattered? He started to turn away from her, and her heart dropped.

I’m losing him.

She clasped his arm again. “Please.” His eyes met hers. She opened her mouth, but no sound would come out. She had to tell him how she felt, but the idea of leaving herself so exposed, so vulnerable, terrified her. A cold sweat dotted her skin. Fear churned in her stomach, and for a moment she thought she might be ill.

She was a coward. But if she didn’t take a chance, she would never know, and that would be infinitely worse. “I can’t marry Robert Campbell.”

“Why?”

She wanted to close her eyes and hide, but she forced herself to say, “I don’t love him.” She heard his sharp intake
of breath, and his gaze intensified. “I …” She took a deep breath and let it out in one fell swoop: “I love you.”

The silence that followed was as loud as thunder and as painful as a thousand bolts of lightning striking her heart. She stared at him, willing him to say something—anything. But he stood motionless, as if turned to stone, and didn’t say a word. Not one word.

Her heart started to thump and her breath quickened as horror slowly drained over her—as thick and heavy as the mud that she’d slipped in that hideous day.

I was wrong.

She looked away, wishing she were anywhere but here. In this warm, dark room, inches away from the man she loved who didn’t want her.

“Lizzie …”

She tried to breathe through the knife plunged deep in her chest. “You don’t need to say anything. I”—she choked—“just … thought. It seemed”—tears burned in her throat—“I thought you wanted me.” God, it hurt. The pressure in her chest was unbearable. She couldn’t breathe. Her voice came out in a ragged whisper. “Obviously I made a mistake.”

He swore and grabbed her arm, pulling her against him in one harsh movement. More furious than she’d ever seen him. “You didn’t make a mistake. God, can’t you feel how much I want you?”

Shocked by the violence of emotion she’d unknowingly unleashed, she nodded and was suddenly very conscious of the hard column of steel thrust against her stomach. He
did
want her. And if the size of him was any indication, badly. But was it more than lust? She gazed up at him through blurry eyes. “Then why are you doing this?”

“For your own good. You’ll be better off with Campbell.”

Her heart soared. He wasn’t rejecting her, he was only trying to do what he thought was best for her.
Honorable
to the core.
She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek, savoring the rasp of dark stubble on her palm. “Shouldn’t I be the judge of that? Am I to have no voice in deciding my own future?”

“Elizabeth …” His voice sounded tortured.

“Do you still want to marry me?”

His smoldering green gaze burned deep into her soul. “More than anything in this world.”

In his eyes, she saw the truth.
He cares for me.
A wide smile broke through her shimmery tears. “Then it’s decided.”

His gaze fell to her mouth, and she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he dropped his hold and took a step back. “I can’t do this,” he said quietly. “It’s wrong.”

She saw the steely determination in his eyes and knew that his mind was made up. A low rumble started from somewhere deep inside her and built until her entire body seemed to shake with it.

Just when she’d given up hope, she’d found the man she’d always dreamed of, a man who wanted her for herself. She’d be damned(!) if she would let him walk away out of some overprotective male sense of honor.

Lizzie had always been the quiet one. The serious, bid dable girl who did what was expected. Well, she was tired of hiding in the shadows and letting life pass her by. Not this time. This time she was going to reach out and take what she wanted, to Hades (the blasphemies were really flowing now!) with the consequences.

She met steel with steel, her gaze every bit as fierce and determined as his. “I’m afraid I don’t agree.”

She felt a supreme moment of satisfaction at the slight wariness that appeared in his gaze—wariness that turned to full-blown alarm after she stormed back over to the door, lowered the bar, and turned around to face him.

There was only one way to bend steel, and that was with fire … lots and lots of fire.

“What are you doing?”

She arched a brow. “I would think that is fairly obvious to a man of your perception.” She moved back toward him. “We appear to have a difference of opinion, and I think it is better that we are not disturbed while we sort it out.”

She pulled off the thin beaded shawl she’d draped around her shoulders and dropped it on the pallet where he’d stacked his belongings. It seemed to land with the resounding thud of a gauntlet. To the winner went the spoils. And this was not a battle she intended to lose.

His hot gaze washed over her, soaking up every inch of bare skin—especially the bare skin around her breasts. Her nipples tightened under his scrutiny. His eyes flared. The pulse at his neck twitched dangerously.

This dress really was shameless. But from the way his eyes gorged hungrily on the round swells of flesh and the deep cleft in between, she had to admit that perhaps Alys was right. Lizzie would never be a raving beauty like her cousin Flora, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t emphasize her attributes.

“And how do you propose we sort this out?” His voice was wonderfully hoarse.

She smiled, a devilish glint in her eyes. “Oh, I’m sure we can figure something out.” Her gaze dropped to the hefty bulge in his pants.

Dear God.

Her mouth suddenly went dry. Her bravado faltered. She wasn’t nearly as confident as she pretended.

Unconsciously, she licked her bottom lip. If possible, the prodigious bulge seemed to grow a little bigger. He appeared to be in a great deal of pain, but Elizabeth was discovering that she had a rather ruthless streak when it came to this man.

She approached him slowly, enjoying the way his body tensed as she drew near, his intense, predatory gaze following
her every move. She felt a rush of heat. For the first time in her life, she felt the power of being a desirable woman. It gave her just enough courage to go on.

She slid against him, molding her body to his. The sizzle of contact startled them both. She loved the hard press of his body against hers, feeling every bulge, every cord of hard muscle. Her body flushed with heat, concentrating in tingling awareness where they touched.

He made a choking noise in the back of his throat—half groan, half pain. “You don’t know what you are doing.”

His voice was tight—very tight. She could feel the pressure reverberating inside him. The powerful muscles in his arms and shoulders tensed.

She tilted her chin. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

His eyes bored into hers, hot and full of passion. “There will be no going back. Once I make you mine, I will never let you go.”

Her heart clenched at the possessive tone in his voice.

She slid her hands around his neck and rose to her tiptoes—he really was frightfully tall—her body stretched against him. The evidence of their desire rose between them. It was impossible to deny in the hard peak of her nipples driving into his chest and the rigid length of his erection held taut against her stomach. And the heat. So much heat. It seemed to meld them together.

“Good,” she said. “I don’t want to go back. I only want you.” She pressed tiny kisses along his jaw, savoring the hint of salt on his skin and the scratch of his jaw against her lips. She wanted to inhale him. Devour him. Lick every inch of his incredible body.

His heart pounded furiously against hers, and she knew he was holding himself on a very tight rein.

She trailed soft kisses along his jaw until she came to the sensitive place below his ear, and then she drew little circles with her tongue.

He started to shake but still would not touch her. His
will was formidable, but so was hers—and she’d finally found a weakness in the steely armor of this fierce warrior. She had no intention of relenting now.

She rubbed against him a little more, raking her nipples against his chest, the friction sending delicious little fissures of pleasure down her belly, concentrating between her legs. She closed her eyes, wallowing in the sudden rush of heat and dampness, feeling the insistent clench of desire.

His powerful erection pressed intimately against her, teasing her with possibility. Her mouth was right on his ear, and she spoke her wicked thoughts aloud. “I want you inside me.”

That was it. With a violent growl, he snapped. “Damn you, Elizabeth.”

His mouth fell on hers in a ravaging kiss. A kiss that reached down to her soul, claiming her completely. Not wasting any time, he scooped her up and carried her toward an empty pallet.

His body was on fire. Patrick had never been more aroused in his life. His shy, sweet little Lizzie had turned into a bold seductress. She could bring him to his knees like this. Hell, she already had.

All his honorable intentions were forgotten in the space of one long heartbeat.

I want you inside me.

He’d almost come right then, his body already pushed to the edge by the seductive press of her sweet little body against his. His ironclad control shattered into fragments. All he could think about was tossing her down, twining her legs around him, and thrusting up high inside her until the demons roaring in his head quieted. Until these powerful, terrifying emotions unleashed by her tender declaration let him go. Until the burning in his chest stopped.