CHAPTER 18
At the first sign of dawn, Chloe bounced from the bed, shoving away the blankets. She regretted leaving a mess of clothes in her wake when she readied for bed. It took her way too much time to gather everything together and dress herself.
It wasn’t easy, either. She was used to Evie helping her. But this morning, she didn’t want to wait around for her sister to show up and help her.
She pulled the overdress on over her head and fumbled with the laces, finally tying them with her arms at awkward angles. She stuck her feet in her shoes and hurried toward the door.
She cracked it open to peer out into the hallway. Everything was still and silent.
Good. Then everyone was still asleep.
Her heart throbbed against her ribcage as she pulled the door closed with a soft snick. She stood there a long moment, her back against the aged wood, as she took a deep breath to gather her courage.
This was either going to be the best idea she ever had or the worst.
She hoped for the best.
Creeping down the hall, her slippers silent on the stone flooring, she made her way to the stairway.
She recalled Malcolm’s room was around a corner.
At the end of the hallway, she turned left.
With her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and her cut hand throbbing, she paused as she peered down the corridor.
There were several closed doors ahead of her. Which one was Malcolm’s room? She didn’t want to guess wrong and enter someone else’s room. Indecision flashed through her. This was a bad idea. She turned to head back to her own room when she heard the scrape of a door opening.
She halted and pressed her back against the cool stone wall as she waited, holding her beath, to see who it was.
A moment later, the youngest brother, Jamie, exited his room.
He stomped down the hall, his boots echoing around him, and then stopped short when he saw her.
His brows lifted in mild surprise and he grinned at her.
“Och, ye must be looking for my brother, aye?”
She chewed the inside of her lower lip, trying to decide how to respond. If she said yes, then what would Jamie think? If she said no, would he think she was lying? Thankfully, she didn’t have to respond.
“His room is the third door.” He thumbed over his shoulder, then gave her a wink and continued strolling on his merry way.
Chloe waited until he was out of sight. “This is stupid,” she muttered under her breath.
Her hands shook as a mixture of anxiety and hope balled in the pit of her stomach. Anxiety for what she was about to do. Hope that the keystone would still be there on the bedside table. Without letting herself think, she took a step. And another. And another.
“This is so stupid,” she whispered.
Yet, she continued on to that third door.
When she arrived, she paused outside it, staring at the solid wood and the iron hinges.
She wasn’t going to knock to announce her arrival.
She was going to enter and hope he wasn’t there.
If he wasn’t, she’d snatch the keystone and scurry out.
If he was…well, she wasn’t sure what she was going to do.
After taking another cleansing breath—with all these deep breaths, she should be calm by now—she placed her hand on the solid wood in the middle of the door and gave a little push.
When it opened a crack, she halted. Before she lost her nerve, she pushed it enough to slip inside. The hinges belched a creak.
She swore under her breath as she gently pushed the door closed.
The lump in the bed was unmistakable. He shifted slightly. She dared not move or breathe. With every part of her shaking, she waited for several rapid heartbeats until she heard the deep, heavy breathing of his sleep.
Her mouth had gone dry. She couldn’t lose her nerve now.
She took a step toward the bed, keeping an eye on him as she advanced to the bedside table. The keystone was where she had left it, inches from his head. Now was her chance to swipe the stone and get out before he awoke.
Her gaze landed on it as she reached out a hand for it.
Strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her away.
She yelped surprise as she landed on her back on the feather mattress.
His big body pressed against hers, pinning her there.
Heat radiated outward from him and she realized, with some trepidation and a hint of excitement, he was bare chested.
She looked up into a face that was familiar and not.
That mischievous glint sparkled in his sea-green eyes as he gazed down at her, his lips curving into a lazy, sensuous grin.
But it wasn’t the smile that threw her—it was the smoothness of his face.
Clean-shaven. Her fingers itched with the urge to reach out and touch his skin, to feel the unfamiliar softness under her fingertips.
“Well, lass, care to tell me what yer doing here?”
“I—”
Words froze in her throat. She had no idea what excuse to give him. Instead, she stared at him, utterly dumbstruck.
God, he was gorgeous. All sharp lines and rugged angles in his weathered face.
High cheekbones swept upward, his square chin strong and unyielding.
But it was his eyes…those eyes. The moment they locked with hers, it felt like being pulled into a vast ocean with no life preserver.
She was drowning, and he didn’t even know it.
“You shaved.”
They were the only words that managed to come out. His features softened. The roguish mirth melting into a deep desire that pierced her resistance.
“Aye.”
“Why?”
He lifted a dark brow. “Do ye not know?”
A hot tingling took up residence in the pit of her stomach.
An intense fiery sensation flared through her in such an overwhelming way, she wasn’t sure how to handle it.
Her heart jolted. Her pulse pounded. Her senses vibrated.
She was certain, since he was against her, he was aware of every pulse, every beat, every breath shuddering out of her.
She was also certain she felt his heart beating a quick cadence against hers.
“You did that for me?” Her voice was weak as she asked.
That sexy grin returned. A smoldering flame sparked deep in the ocean of his eyes. She should be alarmed. She should push him away. She should demand he release her.
But she didn’t. She couldn’t. She didn’t have the strength.
He radiated a vitality and a dizzying desire she was unable to resist.
Chloe lifted her good hand to his face. Her fingertips grazed his smooth cheek. That did not assuage the burning craving. If anything, it fueled the fire even more. When her fingers landed on his face, he closed his eyes and turned into her hand. He planted a soft kiss in her palm.
As soon as his lips brushed her hand, there was a maddening eruption of need pounding through her, fanning the flames of her desire. It wrapped around her, cocooning her and making her body ache for his touch. A curious swooping pulled at her innards.
She flattened her palm against his cheek, her hand sliding along the smooth edge of his jaw, tracing the outline of his strength to the indention of his chin.
Her body shuddered against his. A little mewl escaped her.
She was unable to stop the sound even if she had wanted.
The spark had ignited. The embers sizzled.
Now, what was she going to do about it?
She had two choices—nothing or... something. And that something called to her, stirring a curiosity she couldn’t ignore. The thought of wanting someone so fully, so intensely, sent a thrill through her. It tugged at her, daring her to give in.
Thinking of releasing her inhibitions sent a molten wave of hunger moving through her. In all her years, she had never allowed it to overtake her. But what if? What if she did with Malcolm?
“God’s teeth, woman.”
He practically growled the words. Before she had a chance to respond, he lowered his head. The moment his lips met hers, everything inside her unraveled. The fiery chasm opened, consuming her. She was lost to him. Completely and utterly lost to him.
His kiss was gentle at first, but she wanted more.
Needed more. She slid her hand through the length of his hair, letting her fingers tangle in the length.
Her back arched toward him in a desperate attempt to get closer to him.
The rasp of material between them chafed her.
She wanted to claw away her dress to bare herself to him. To let him touch her.
He rumbled a response, his chest vibrating against her, his mouth still plundering hers. Finally, she managed to wrap her arms around him, her hands landing on his smooth back, making their way down the length. At his waist, she paused and realized with some surprise, he was naked.
A warm chuckle escaped him. He lifted his head to gaze down at her.
“Och, lass, ye tempt me.”
In his throat, she saw the rapid beat of his pulse. It was an indication he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
“Well, you know what they say about temptation, don’t you?”
He looked intrigued. “And what is that?”
“The only way to get rid of it is to yield to it.”
For once, the Oscar Wilde quote served her well.
Thinking it was one thing. Saying it aloud was another and yet, she found she was unable to stop the words from bubbling through her.
He stilled against her as indecision flashed across his face.
He, like her, was trying to decide if they moved forward.
After all, he was already naked.
Though his lower half was still under the blankets, she was aware of his arousal pressing against her thigh.
That slow, lazy, sexy grin reappeared on his mouth, now damp from kissing her. When he made no move, she took matters into her own hands.
Feeling bold, she lifted her head to nuzzle his neck. His skin was warm and soft with the hint of the lilac soap he used to shave. She liked the way he felt next to her. She liked the way he smelled. She liked he shaved his beard for her. It was endearing.