Highlander Most Wanted (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #2)(65)

He made a small sound so she’d be alerted to his presence, and she whirled around, her eyes wide with fright.

“ ’Tis just me,” he soothed.

She relaxed, but her eyes remained alert and searching.

He walked forward, realizing the presumption of his barging into her private quarters—a place he’d assured her that she would not be bothered. He stood a few feet away, unsure of what to do now that he was here and Genevieve sat before him, a vision of loveliness silhouetted by the fire.

“Would you like to sit?” she asked softly, gesturing toward the chair opposite her. “You look as though you have much on your mind.”

He took the chair and leaned forward in it, his elbows resting on his knees.

“I wanted to see you,” he said simply.

He’d not upset her by telling her of Graeme’s reaction to his declaration. He hadn’t even yet given her the words—his feelings. In truth, he was … afraid.

It amused him that a man well versed in the ways of women and confident in his own powers of seduction should be so uncertain over a lass. But Genevieve was different. She was important. He didn’t want to mishandle the situation and ruin any chance he had of making her his.

She reached her hand across the distance and held it out to him. Such a simple gesture, yet it touched him deeply. He slid his fingers over her smooth palm and curled them around hers, enjoying the contact.

“Did you greet your brother?” she asked cautiously.

“Aye,” he said grimly. “He is settled in my chamber for the night.”

She frowned, her eyebrows drawing together. “Where then will you stay?”

He hesitated, not wanting to be overbold, and yet he wanted to be honest with her.

“I would like to stay here. With you.”

Her eyes darkened, then widened in surprise. Her hand trembled inside his, and he squeezed to reassure her.

“I am not expecting anything you are not willing to give,” he said in a low voice. “Your company is enough.”

She shifted in her seat and then rose, her hand still grasped within his. Her hair fell down her back and the simple shift she wore tangled at her knees, baring her feet as she closed the distance between them.

She stood between his spread thighs and slowly lowered her mouth to his, touching softly and hesitantly. Her breath stuttered nervously over his lips as she shyly deepened the kiss.

“Ah, lass, what you do to me,” Bowen whispered.

He pulled her down to perch on his lap and wrapped both arms around her, holding her against his chest as she tucked her head beneath his chin.

He rubbed one hand up and down her arm, just wanting to absorb the feel of her. His mind was alive with the choices before him and the repercussions for those choices. And yet the biggest consequence of all would be not to have her. Everything else he could face, but not a future without Genevieve.

She lifted her head, bumping into his chin as she pulled away. She stared at him with such dread in her eyes that it twisted his insides.

“Genevieve, what is amiss? You have to know I will never hurt you.”

She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears—and shame. “I know you’ll not hurt me, Bowen. There is something I must tell you. If you knew … You would not want me thus. And yet I must tell you, because I cannot allow things to progress between us if you don’t know.”

Fear took hold and wouldn’t let go. He didn’t like the tone of her voice. He didn’t like the agony in her eyes.

He touched her face, his fingers shaking as he traced the scar on her cheek.

“What is it, lass?”

She closed her eyes and lowered her head so she wouldn’t meet his gaze. Her voice was so low he had to strain to hear.

“I willingly took Ian to my bed.”

Bowen was certain he could not have heard properly.

She opened her eyes and lifted her chin a notch, peeking at him from beneath her eyelashes.

“ ’Twas when Eveline was brought to the keep. Ian was set on h-h-having her. He intended to rape her. He was in such a state. He was triumphant, like a man drugged. Euphoric that he’d succeeded in spiriting Eveline away. He kept saying that the lass would not make a fool of him and that he’d punish her.”

Her breath caught and held until finally it hiccupped softly from her throat.

“I could not allow it.”

Her voice cracked and a low sob welled from her chest.

“ ’Twas my doing that she was here, and I was so shamed. I knew that I could never be happy knowing that my freedom was bought by the suffering of another. So … so I invited him to my bed. I s-s-seduced him.”

She broke off and turned her face away, her hands flying to cover her cheeks and the tears that fell.

Bowen stared at her in shock, and then anger assailed him. She flinched when she looked back and saw his reaction and immediately she tried to rise from his lap.

He caught her, holding her fiercely to him. He wrapped both of his arms around her and buried his face in her hair.

God, he was furious. Furious that she’d taken so much on her shoulders, that she bore so much weight. Guilt. Shame. And none of it did she deserve.

He was furious with himself for spending so much time being angry at her. And he was livid that Graeme had denounced the match between him and Genevieve because of all she’d supposedly done to Eveline.