Highland Scoundrel (Campbell Trilogy #3)(90)

She didn't bother trying to deny it. How could she when her body still wept and trembled from his touch. She'd always wanted him—only him.

“But something is holding you back,” he said. He caught her arm and held her to him, his face dangerously close. “What are you hiding from me, Jeannie? Does it have something to do with your husband?” She didn't say anything, fear clamping around her throat. “With your son?”

He was holding her so close, looking into her eyes, and he saw it. The flare of panic in her gaze she could not hide.

“It's your son you are protecting.” His eyes searched her face. “Why?”

Jeannie's heart raced as she wrestled with something to say, with some kind of explanation to steer him from the truth. Everything she'd fought so hard to protect seemed poised on the very precipice of disaster. She was scared to open her mouth, fearing the truth would somehow slip out.

“How could I possibly hurt your son?”

Anger welled up inside her. Though she'd gone to every effort to prevent him from doing so, part of her wanted him to guess. His genuine perplexity, his blindness, grated, shattering her already frayed emotions. Tears broke free as the pressure of all she'd been keeping inside finally burst.

“Don't you see that your very presence here is a threat to him? If you implicate my husband in this plot against you who do you think will take the blame? You can destroy my son's future, everything I've fought so hard to protect,” she lashed out, coming dangerously close to the truth, but for the moment not caring.

Her accusation took him aback. “He's a child.”

She scoffed. “Do you think that will matter to your cousin or the king?”

His silence said it all. Giving voice to her fears was a relief, she realized. It hadn't been the entire truth, but enough of it to feel as if a weight had been lifted.

After a moment, he dragged his hands through his hair and said, “Why didn't you tell me this before?”

“Would it have mattered? Should I have trusted you?” She challenged. “Did you trust me?”

Their eyes met, each knowing the answer.

“And this is why you've refused to help me? To protect your son?”

She sensed the urgency in his voice, as if her answer was somehow very important to him. “What should I have done? Help you destroy him?”

“I would never allow that to happen, Jeannie,” he said, tilting her chin and forcing her gaze to his. For a moment his expression was devoid of the anger that had hardened it only moments ago—almost tender. “The boy carries no blame for what happened. I swear to you he will not be harmed.”

“How can you make such a promise?”

“I can do nothing about your father, but I will ensure that your husband's name is kept out of this.”

She sucked in her breath. Her eyes scanned his face, seeing only cold resolve. “You would do this for me?”

He nodded. “Aye. You have my word.”

She wanted to believe him. Looking at him it was hard not to. In his fine black leather and metal-studded garb, he looked every inch the fierce, indestructible warrior—the black knight of legend ready to defeat all who challenged him. His head nearly touched the ceiling, his shoulders were as wide as the door, his chest as hard as a shield—every inch of him honed to a steely weapon of war. But it was more than his size and clothing. The stamp of authority was plain not just on his proud, noble features, but engrained in every movement, even in the way he spoke. He seemed more a chief than an outlaw.

But he was an outlaw—a dead man if his cousin's soldiers caught up with him. How could he protect her son?

Yet, all her instincts cried out to throw herself into his arms, close her eyes, and give over to the powerful force that drew them together. It seemed so easy, but she'd learned to be wary of easy.

It wasn't just him she didn't know if she could trust, she realized; it was herself. When it came to him, her judgment had never been sound.

Her uncertainty must have shown on her face. His hand fell from her face and he took a step back away from her. “I can't undo the past, Jeannie. Nor can I force you to move beyond it. I wronged you. I should have listened to you and given you a chance to explain. But I'm not the same man now as I was then.” He gave her a long penetrating look. “God knows I tried, but it seems I couldn't forget you. You are in my blood—in my bones. I want to see if there is anything left to salvage between us, but I cannot do it alone. I can't force you to trust me, but neither will I have half of you.”

The cold resolve in his voice left her no doubt he meant what he said. Duncan had thrown down the gauntlet at her feet: all or nothing. Wasn't that always how it had been between them?

Never far from her mind was the knowledge that he could be taken at any time. The close call at the inn came back to her in full force. What if she decided and it was too late?

Before she could respond he turned and left, never once looking back. She stared at the door, the panic that she'd felt moments ago welling up to claim her heart. Her heart that shouldn't care. But the armor of the past had rusted away, leaving her unprotected and vulnerable to him.

Don't go. The voice of the girl she'd been escaped before the resolve of the woman she'd become could quiet it.

Would it ever be completely quiet?